You Owe Me
by Umgubular-Slashkilter
Summary: Almost four years after the War. Draco must be married to recieve his inheritance, and Harry owes Narcissa a life debt. HPDM slash. Rated M for future just in case. As Deathly Hallows compliant as possible, except the epilogue. J. K. Rowling owns HPverse.
1. Chapter 1

_All characters and world belong to the lovely J. K. Rowling. Firct fic posted. Thanks!_

Narcissa Malfoy sipped her tea from the Black fire crab shell tea cups that had been in her family for the past two centuries, the embedded jewels shining as if just polished. The mistress's of the house forehead was wrinkled in thought as she stared at the two documents laying by her empty breakfast tray, only the tinkling of dishes being put away by the house elves accompanied the hum of her brain.

The first document was the latest edition of _Witch Weekly_, where a familiar dark haired bespectacled boy was looking up at her from the cover.

**THE BOY WHO LIVED: BRITAIN'S MOST ELIGIBLE BACHELOR** was the main feature's title.

Narcissa had read it. Twice. Three pages on twenty-year-old Harry Potter: his increased fame as the Appleby Arrows' professional Seeker, having led them to their first victory ever in the European Cup, giving them a shot at the World Cup; the places where he has been spotted hanging out frequently; an interview of him discussing his new charity with Neville Longbottom for patients at St. Mungo's suffering from insanity from the Crucio curse; pictures of his newly renovated estate, Grimmauld Place, and him on the Quidditch pitch, pale blue robes flying behind him; and also rumors about the break up that happened at the beginning of last spring with his then girlfriend Ginny Weasley and the short lived fling speculated upon with muggle-born wizard Terry Boot.

The article contained a quote from Boot, serving as the only acknowledgment of their relationship to date. Upon being questioned about the details of the relationship, Boot had commented, "Harry is a wonderful guy, and I enjoyed his company, but we are better off as friends. That is all I am willing to say about the matter."

The other document was a letter, the parchment lying open with the Gringotts official seal broken. Official and extravagantly curved handwriting stood out in purple ink:

_With deepest respect to Mistress Narcissa Black Malfoy,_

_Gringrotts is writing to remind your family of the matters of settling Master Draco Malfoy's inheritance, as is decreed by the Malfoy Codex, as the mark of his 21st birthday approaches. All Malfoy heirs must enter into marriage with an acceptable partner by their 21st birthday to claim their inheritance. Failure to do so will mean disobedience to the Codex and will be grounds for the heir to be disinherited. To receive his inheritance, Master Malfoy must follow the traditions of the family or his vault shall be frozen until another suitable heir is presented._

_Please present the completed marriage contract by midnight of June 5th to the Gringott's council to release the hold on the vault._

_Noruk_

_Head Goldin of Gringott's Council_

Draco's birthday was three months away, Narcissa thought grimly, and no negotiations for a marriage had proved fruitful. Most of the pureblooded families that would have been appropriate matches were shamed and shunned after the fall of the Dark Lord, and those who had survived were not willing to ally themselves with the Malfoys who were able to keep their wealth but no longer held the same prestige after their family activities were revealed. And Draco could not marry just anyone. The Codex demanded an acceptable partner, the term acceptable was followed by a list of the must haves and must nots. If Draco married someone whose blood did not pass the Codex, the contract would be considered unsatisfactory and his inheritance would be lost, and Draco would be shamed. They were running out of options, Narcissa admitted to herself as she picked up the _Witch Weekly_ issue.

Those green eyes stared fiercely up at her, the same eyes she had seen in the Forbidden Forest that horrible night... Narcissa snapped out of her reverie.

"Dolly," she called a particularly small house elf. "Go to my personal library and bring all the books on wizard debts and bonds."

"Yes, Mistress Malfoy," the house elf squeaked and gave a curtsy. She lifted her fingers, ready to apparate herself with a snap-

"Wait," Narcissa stopped her. "Please bring me some parchment and a quill. I want to write a tea invitation for tomorrow."

"Right away, Madam," Dolly answered and disappeared with a crack.

_There might still be one option they had not tried._


	2. Chapter 2

_I don't own any of the characters or world. They belong to the lovely J. K. Rowling. My first fic posted. Thanks!_

* * *

><p>A raven haired young man knocked on the Malfoy Mansion's doors, a giant M elaborately carved in the center. The set of his shoulders gave off an impression of ease, but inside twenty-year-old Harry Potter was on guard and a bit confused by the invitation he had received by a great eagle owl yesterday morning, asking him to "be so kind" and "greatly honor" Narcissa Malfoy for tea. The parchment was in his robes inner pocket lying against his Quidditch defined chest.<p>

A moment passed and the great doors opened, splitting the M down the middle, and with only a second's hesitation, Harry stepped over the threshold, an unusually small house elf standing in the foyer to receive him. It was female. He could tell by the simple white dress it wore, a lacy tea doily perched on its head.

_A vast improvement from pillowcases_, Harry thought darkly to himself, remembering a dear friend who had once served Lucius Malfoy.

"Master Potter," the elf bowed low. "Malfoy Manor warmly welcomes you."

"Uh, thank you," Harry answered as the house elf straightened up. "I'm here for tea with Mrs. Malfoy." _Merlin's Beard_, he never though he'd be saying that.

"Oh, yes, Master Potter, Mistress Malfoy is waiting for you in the parlor, if you would just follow Dolly."

Harry nodded and began to follow the house elf to the right corridor leading off from the foyer, staring at the grand stair case looming up directly in front of him.

They had taken ten steps when Dolly stopped and turned around, looking nervous and rather shy.

"Er, Master Potter?" she piped.

"Yes, Dolly?" Harry answered.

"Well, sir, Dolly wanted to, that is on behalf of Dolly's family, sir, thank you for your overwhelming kindness and great character, sir."

Harry was stunned; he tried to clear his throat but could not reply.

Dolly looked at him with huge brown eyes. "You see, sir, Dolly was Dobby's cousin."

"Oh," Harry said, understanding. His face softened. "I am sorry for your loss. He was a brave elf and a good friend. He...he saved my life, many others in fact."

Harry bent his knees to be more on Dolly's eye level and stuck out his hand.

"I am honored to meet a family member of his."

Dolly stared at his hand in wonder, her lip trembling with emotion. She squeaked loudly and threw herself into a hug around Harry's waist.

"_Oh, Master Potter_! Dobby always said you were a great wizard! You have no idea what you mean to us house elves. When they erected that Memorial for the Great War to honor all those who had lost their lives fighting and you insisted that Dobby's name be there! Oh, what generosity, sir! And you had Winkie contact us to let us know where he was buried so that we could grieve properly! Oh, Matter Potter, you are the greatest Wizard I have ever met! I, I...Oh thank you!" and Dolly burst into tears, leaving Harry to awkwardly pat her on the back.

"There, there. Don't cry!" Harry tried to calm her. "I, um, I mean, you're welcome," he finished lamely, and after a few moments Dolly had pulled herself together and was only sniffling.

"Let me show you to the parlor, sir," she said, taking off her doily and wiping her eyes with its lacy edges.

Harry followed the still emotional house elf to a room that must be the parlor, and he noticed immediately it was enchanted to look as if the people sitting in it were in the middle of a splendid garden, great rose bushes rocking in a breeze Harry could not feel. But what caught Harry's attention almost directly after was who was sitting on the silk covered lounge chairs.

Narcissa Malfoy, though relaxed and having just set down a book she had been reading, was still quite an impressive figure. Her long blonde hair with a large brunette streak through it on one side framed her aristocratic features well. A tall woman, she held herself erect and her chin high. She looked confident in the velvet robes that had been tailored perfectly to her measurements. Her dark eyes were not as frightening and soulless as her late husband Lucius's had been, but they still promised heavy consequences for anyone who crossed her. Harry noted that those eyes were now warmed by a smile she was giving to him as she stood to receive him.

"Mr. Potter," she said and nodded her head in respect.

He returned her a curt bow.

"Mrs. Malfoy."

"Please, sit." She gestured at the free chairs and Harry slowly seated himself into the one nearest him.

Another house elf came bustling in with a silver tray and began to offer Harry his tea, adding lumps of sugar upon his request.

Harry eyed the tea skeptically before whispering a quick poison revealing spell he hoped the hostess did not notice before taking a sip.

"Please let me congratulate you on your team's latest win with Puddlemere. The _Prophet_ says it was a most exhilarating game," Narcissa praised, taking the cup proffered from the house elf.

Harry looked at the woman across from him. The last time he had actually spoken to her had been at the Ministry almost four years ago, when he had spoken for her and Draco Malfoy to be pardoned from sentences to Azkaban as she and Draco both had had opportunities to turn him over to Voldemort during the War and neither one, much to the Ministry's surprise, had actually been branded with the Dark Mark. All they had found on Draco's arm had been a nasty laceration that would not heal, later revealed as "reminder" from Voldemort to Draco that he was at the Dark Lord's mercy. Since then, besides some polite nods at charity events, Harry had not come into contact with either Malfoy. Harry had read about Lucius Malfoy's death in Azkaban two years ago in the _Prophet_.

"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy. But, with all due respect, somehow I do not think you invited me here to discuss how my Quidditch season is going."

Narcissa's eyes twinkled as she set her cup and saucer neatly down.

"I was merely making polite conversation, Mr. Potter, but your time, of course, is very valuable, so I shall not waste it any longer."

Harry's curiosity peaked and he waited for her to continue.

"As you know, Mr. Potter, the Malfoy's name has not held quite the same weight as it once did, although," she said, smiling, "It is still a family name of respect, thanks to your testimony to the Ministry."

"This state of affairs, I regret to inform you, has made it somewhat difficult in securing another family's alliance with ours through marriage with Draco, despite our still considerable wealth and pureblood status. It would appear that my husband's... _mistakes_, still reflect glaringly on Draco and me, despite our efforts to show penance."

"Yes," Harry mused. "I guess having a Death Eater as a father does put people off, no matter how many galleons you have."

Narcissa's eyes hardened, but she did not comment.

Harry felt a small pang of regret at his humor and started again. The Malfoys, after all, had suffered under Voldemort greatly before the end of the War.

"My apologies, Mrs. Malfoy, that was not tactful. So no one wants to marry Draco. I am afraid I do not see how this affects me."

Narcissa relaxed. "Oh, but you do not realize how your help could greatly remedy this situation."

"My help? You mean you want me to put in a good word for Draco so some family will let their daughter marry him?"

"You misunderstand me, Mr. Potter. I do not dream of you using your influence in such a way."

Harry looked surprised.

"Oh, well, then, I don't-"

"Are you involved romantically with anyone at the moment, Mr. Potter?" Narcissa interrupted.

He spluttered. "No..., I, well, I don't see how that is any of your concern."

"Oh it does not, really; I just think it will be easier if you are currently unattached."

"Why? What will be easier?" Harry's eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"When you marry my son, of course."

Harry's mouth dropped open, his eyebrows disappearing under his fringe.

"WHAT?"

"When you marry my son, Draco." Narcissa repeated calmly.

Harry laughed. "You're putting me on, right? Me! Marry Draco Malfoy! Never.

"You don't have much of a choice in the matter, I'm afraid."

Harry stopped laughin,g and his face darkened. "The _hell_ I don't!" he said fiercely. "What are you trying to pull?"

"Actually you do not, according to the rules of the life debt."

"Life debt? But I saved Draco from the fiendfyre. We are even."

"Yes, but you still owe another debt, to me."

"But, but, I spoke for you at the Ministry," he stuttered, outraged, standing up. "You were able to keep your house and money because of-"

"And for that I am severely grateful." Narcissa face broke from its serene set into regret at her words. "Do not misunderstand that. And know that I would not call on this debt if I was not in great need of it, but I never asked you to be a witness to the Mministry. You did that on your own. You helped Draco and I survive, and now I must ask for you to help us again."

"But if I am still indebted to you, then I only have to save your life in return. Marriage hardly counts as a life and death situation," Harry snorted, daring triumph.

"Saving my life is one way to repay me," Narcissa said slowly. "But according to the magic of the life debt, if the one wizard or witch to whom the debt is owed desires a great favor short of the sacrifice of the indebted's life, they may ask of it as they choose to fulfill the debt."

Narcissa picked up the book she had been reading and flipped to a bookmarked page.

"Here," she said holding out the open book. "Read it for yourself."

Harry stared at the book and took it. As he read the color drained out of his face, and he slowly dropped into his seat, finally covering his eyes with his hand as he finished reading.

"Why are you asking this, of all things? Can I offer nothing else?" Harry whispered.

Narcissa became sympathetic. Having choices taken away from you was an awful situation. She had known what that had felt like often during the Dark Lord's return.

"Because," she said solemnly. "Draco must be married. He will not receive the full Malfoy inheritance if he does not marry a suitable partner by his 21st birthday in June. And most of the Malfoy estate is wrapped in that inheritance. You are the only one available in such a pressing time table."

Harry uncovered his eyes, looking desperate. "But I am not suitable. I am not a pureblood. My mother was Muggle born."

Narcissa clucked her tongue.

"The rules for a suitable mate make allowances for half-bloods in the event that a pureblood match is not to be found, as long as both parents were wizards. The Potter line is pureblooded, though, a family name that is as old as Malfoy or Black. It also helps that your mother was an accomplished witch, proving strong in magic, despite her parentage."

Harry shook his head, not wanting to believe. _This was not happening; this was some sick joke._

Narcissa leaned closer to him.

"Your accomplishments alone overrule many of the guidelines for a Malfoy match. As a Potter, you have a vast amount of wealth on your own, professional Quidditch salary aside. You are the godson of Sirius, inheriting my family's estate, claiming the prestige of both houses. You are highly influential as you are friends with Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic, and highly respected and honored for defeating the most powerful dark wizard of all time. No one compares to you in the wizarding world. Draco could not_ dream_ of making an alliance with any else better. And it is you who are compelled to marry him by the life debt you owe."

"Fuck me," Harry whispered to himself.

Narcissa raised her eyebrows at the use of language but did not say anything.

"Does Draco know?" Harry asked, still whispering.

"No." Narcissa shook her long blonde hair. "He has not been told anything, except his duty of marriage. He will obey and marry who I have chosen. He, like you, has no choice, as Draco could never shame the name of Malfoy."

"_I won't_," Harry croaked. "I won't marry him."

Narcissa straightened her back. "You will, Mr. Potter."

She cleared her throat and spoke in a clear, strong voice, "As holder of the life debt, I demand this favor from you, Harry Potter, to enter into marriage contract with my son, Draco Malfoy, before the 5th of June."

Narcissa shone as golden light emitted from her to Harry's slumped form. Harry felt a pull in his chest as it settled over him and his ears rang with her words as the light faded.

"What have you done to me?" Harry asked, horrified.

Narcissa smiled sadly. "I have only asked that the life debt be repaid."


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione Granger Weasley's face stayed in a perpetual frown as she poured over books and research materials on life debts in Grimmauld Place with Harry, and her husband Ron.

It had been a week since Harry had left Malfoy Manor and he had apparated to her and Ron's house in Ottery St. Catchpole, a week of collecting the most valuable or obscure books on life debt magic in the Legacy Library, Britian's largest Wizarding library, founded by Rowena Ravenclaw, where Hermione worked as a translator of texts in Ancient Runes. Not that such research had been needed. Narcissa Malfoy had sent Harry all of the books on Life Debts from her personal collection along with a text on pureblood family traditions by owl post the next morning, foreseeing that Harry would look for a loophole out of the magic.

Hermione hated to admit it, but there was no loophole, though Harry would not listen to reason, bursting into protests, rants, and curses on the Malfoys every other hour. Life Debts were based on very old, very strong magic. Narcissa had directly asked a favor as payment, and Harry was bound to that request. As angry as all three of them had been (Ron's face having not gone back to its normal color for half a day), there was not anger strong enough to change the magic.

Hermione closed the book she had now read three times.

"Harry," she attempted once again to accept his circumstances, bracing herself for the yelling. "I know this is hard, but..."

"Hermione, unless you have found a solution, do not start," Harry snapped from the large, dusty tome perched in his lap.

Hermione bit her lip and looked into the freckled face of her husband for some support.

He gave her a resigned look, accepting the plan of action his wife had proposed.

"Mate," Ron sighed, amidst a pile of parchment and opened texts. "I think Hermione's right. Research has been a dead en-"

"What if I refuse? What if I just simply refuse to marry him?" Harry burst his voice loud over Ron's.

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. They had been through this argument repeatedly for the past two days.

"Harry, I already told you. Narcissa has not asked something physically impossible or immoral of you. If you refuse her request, the life debt will drain you of your magic as you have broken a magical law. It's all been documented throughout history of those who refused before. Sir Robert the Stubborn, Glenda the Unfortunate..." Hermione ticked names off on her fingers

"I just will not believe-" Harry started.

"Harry," Hermione cut him off.

Harry paused, but still fumed, muttering swear words.

"Hold out your wand," she commanded sternly.

"What?" he asked looking confused. Ron watched, grim with understanding. Wizarding families understood the power behind life debts. He had told Hermione about his uncle trying to refuse one. He was now a taxidermist in a village in Wales.

"Hold out your wand, and I will prove it to you," Hermione said.

Harry took his wand out from his robes and held it up.

"Now," Hermione ordered. "Say that you refuse to fulfill the life debt."

Harry looked determined, almost gleeful. "I refuse to fulfill the life debt."

Hermione nodded. "Now cast Lumos."

"Just do it," she said as he shot her another questioning look.

"Lumos," He said. Nothing happened. His wand did not light up.

Harry stared at it. "Lumos," he repeated. The wand remained unlit.

Harry concentrated harder, "Lumos!"

The wand sparked and then slowly lit, but flickered unsteadily.

He looked at Hermione in horror.

"See," Hermione told him. "Your refusal drains you of your magic because it goes against magic. Your power will hold out with deep concentration until June 5th, but after you have failed the life debt, I am afraid your magic will not be brought back. You will become a-" Hermione winced at the word "squib."

"You have to do this, Harry," Ron said quietly.

Harry's shoulders sagged. "Fuck!" he groaned.

His friends sat with him in silence as he put his head in his hands.

"I can't go back to the muggle world. Magic changed my whole life," Harry choked.

"Then you have to marry Malfoy," Hermione answered in a tone attempting to soothe.

"I don't even know how to go about doing this," he mumbled.

Ron got up with a book in his hand and sat down on the couch beside Harry.

"Um, that's what this is for, I think," he said and Harry looked down to see the book on wizarding traditions Narcissa had sent.

Harry grimaced and took it from Ron, opening the book to the chapter a silk green book mark held in place. The chapter was titled: Courtship and Marriage.

"There're rules on dating!" Harry cried in disgust.

"Only if you're courting with the intent for engagement. And if you are a traditional pureblood family. Fleur and Bill skipped that whole mess," Ron explained.

Hermione moved to sit on the other side of Harry and put her arm around him, rubbing his back.

"Look, mate, I know Malfoy's a right git and all," Ron began. "But I'm sure he's about as keen on this as you are."

"What do you mean? He bloody gets his inheritance and a good laugh at my expense!" Harry protested.

"Yes, Harry," Hermione conceded. "But he also does not get a choice in who he marries. He has to go along with whatever his mother deems best. That's how families like his work."

"I mean, you weren't each other's favorite people in school," Ron added. "He might even be just as miserable as you."

"Are you sympathizing with him?" Harry asked Ron, a look of incredulity on his face.

"No!" Ron said quickly. "I'm just trying to help the situation."

"Oh, Merlin! I must be losing my mind," Harry moaned and threw his head against the back of the coach.

"You know, Harry," Hermione said cautiously. "Malfoy might not even be gay. Think about that."

"Harry's not going to shag him, Hermione!" Ron spluttered, insulted for Harry.

"He might," Hermione shot back. "It depends on the marriage contract. I have researched historical marriage contracts and many want consummation."

Harry forced the mental images to not to develop so that he would not gag. Ron looked like he'd just taken a bite out of a vomit flavored Bertie's Bott.

"I'm just trying to think of anything that might make this harder. At least Harry likes men."

Harry stopped for moment in consideration, despite his refusal to see Malfoy in a sympathetic light. He himself had just come to terms with his sexuality a year ago, having gone on and off with Ginny until they had both realized that Harry was not sexually attracted to women and they had broken up as friends. He could imagine being forced to marry someone, as he was found himself in that situation, but to be forced to marry someone against your sexual preference was even worse.

Harry shuddered at the thought of having sex with someone like Pansy Parkinson. Merlin's Beard!

However Malfoy felt about it, Harry hoped Narcissa found herself on the wrong end of a blast-ended skrewt, because she was ruining both of the men's lives.


	4. Chapter 4

The lovely J.K. Rowling owns all of HPverse. First fic posted. Thanks for reading!

Platinum blonde locks fell damp against Draco's forehead as he worked over a fuming cauldron is his personal lab that used to be the dungeons. He found the only remedy when he was frustrated or angry was to throw himself into a project, and right now his frustration was fueling his work on perfecting a potion that would bring out the drinker's natural highlights for his cosmetic company. It would be his newest in his hair care line. His hands stirred the potion counter clockwise in a perfect slow rhythm, but inside he was shaking.

Mother had told him about the "remedy" to his marriage situation. It had been an ugly scene. Draco had dropped one of the heirloom fire crab shell tea cups. On purpose. His mother and he were not speaking because screaming into each other's faces was ill befitting a Malfoy.

But it did not matter how long Draco avoided his mother; he still had to marry Potter if he wanted to stay in the family.

"Potter," Draco muttered as the potion whirled exactly the way his notes said it would. They couldn't even be trusted as partners in class, let alone a lifetime.

Draco had always known that he would not really have a say in who his intended would be, the Malfoy codex being quite particular, but this was ridiculous!

Of course, he understood why his mother had done this, understood that he had to find a partner for the inheritance. He even more understood how Harry fit the bill as acceptable as there could be no one, in terms of fame, better suited.

That did not mean Draco had to like it; though he knew Harry wasn't thrilled either.

But Draco had assumed that when he was to marry, the other would come from a pureblood family with the same expectations. The two would be making an alliance. They would not love each other at first or even at all, but they would be in agreeance to the marriage. That person would understand the politics. Harry would not.

He was marrying Draco against his will. Mother had sentenced Draco to marital bliss with his childhood rival, his very pissed off rival who had defeated the most powerful wizard since Salazar Slytherin.

_A winning combination, Mother. Thank you_, he thought to himself. The two had barely had a civilized conversation before, if you didn't count the one duel they'd had. Thank Merlin Draco was the object of the favor or Harry could hex him as soon as they said "I do."

This would be a disaster. Draco would marry out of duty; his family line could not survive without the full inheritance, and Harry would resent him for the rest of their lives, making Draco's life miserable. Not that they had really gotten past their resentment in youth, though Draco was older now and his world was much changed since he'd walked the halls of Hogwarts.

He added the dandelion root and the potion turned a robin's egg blue.

Draco sighed. At least Harry was a male. Despite what most outside of the pureblood world thought, infidelity was not an option in a marriage such as a Malfoy's. The marriage contract was magically binding, and to ensure the legitimacy of heirs, the contract made it physically impossible to cheat on a spouse.

If Draco had been paired with a witch, which was very possible given the severe lack of prospects, he would have had to masturbate for the rest of his life. Though with Harry, he probably still would after the consummation.

_This was so damn unfair!_ Draco spat in his head.

The lack of prospects was also eating at Draco. Here he was, a wealthy heir, pureblooded, handsome, properly educated, and running a successful line of cosmetic potions, and after two years of schmoozing at all the right functions, keeping toe well away from the line, and going to therapy, his mother had to resort to using the force of a life debt to get Draco a date. And what's more, his mother had never spoken of the life debt owed to her!

_A true Slytherin she was_, he admitted to himself darkly. _Secretive and plotting. A survivor._ He would proud to call her his mother for it though it was infuriating him at the moment.

As soon as Potter had sent an owl asking to expect him this morning, his mother had had to tell him. He would be here soon with his answer. Draco's stomach lurched as thought of the arrival. What if Potter had agreed, as surely he would as demanded by the life debt? Or even worse, what if that stubborn Gryffindor said to hell with Draco's future, life debt be damned? Draco did not think he could take such an insult, knowing someone would rather lose his magic than be married to the Malfoy heir.

Draco's teeth clenched at the though as he snuffed the flame and began funneling the concoction into a large vial. It would need to cool for two hours minimum.

A crack sounded suddenly while Draco was cleaning up. Dolly, his personal house elf, appeared before him.

She was rubbing her hands frantically while making a quick curtsy to him. "Master Potter is here in the parlor, sir."

Draco stiffened. "Already!" He ran a hand through his lank locks, wet from the humidity that came with brewing.

_Oh, Merlin! He was still in his work robes!_

Understanding his alarm, Dolly jumped to his rescue before he could even pick up his wand. "Dolly will fix Master Draco very fine, sir," she told him and raised her palms, directed at Draco.

In a moment Draco's hair was clean and slicked back out of his eyes, and he was dressed in a set of simple but elegant black robes.

Draco looked down at himself, pleased, and gave Dolly a small smile of thanks.

"Master must not keep Harry Potter waiting," Dolly told him, and Draco hurriedly took the stairs to the main floor, pausing just outside the parlor door to collect himself and stride in gracefully.

As he entered, Potter stood up from his seat across from Mother and gave a stiff bow. Remembering social protocol, Draco bowed back. Harry turned, holding a small ornately carved wooden chest.

Draco's breath caught in his throat. _The chest could only mean that..._

Potter walked over to him, face set in determination and presented the chest to Draco's hands. Draco opened the chest to see it filled with galleons. He could not look into the face he knew so well as Potter took out his wand and whispered the incantation to make the tip pointed like a knife. Slowly Potter sliced open his left ring finger and dripped three drops of his blood onto the golden pile. The courtship initiation ritual.

"Draco Abraxus Malfoy," Potter said in a tight but audible voice.

Draco put on a mask of cool observance as he looked into the green irises in front of him only a few inches shorter from his own.

Potter continued, "I offer this symbol of my dedication and myself as your companion. Do you honor me, Harry James Potter, and my family with your acceptance?"

Draco saw his mother, still seated, nod her approval out of the corner of his eye.

_This was it_, Draco thought. _Potter was following the traditions. He would repay the life debt_. He prepared his answer, greatly relieved in some respect. He would at least have his inheritance out of all of this.

"I honor you and your family as you honor me and mine."

He thought he saw Potter flinch slightly at the words. They stood staring at each other, and Draco, now not across the room at a charity event, could study the changes age had made to Potter's face in the last four years.

The last of childhood roundness had left his face and strong eyebrows and cheek bones now dominated his face completely. His hair was still untidy but cut short, his fringe barely hiding the lightning bolt so pronounced on the side of his forehead. He was tanned, dark compared to Draco's fair skin, most certainly from playing Quidditch. His bottom lip was a slightly more generous than his top, Draco could tell, even though his lips were set closed and hard.

_So this is the face of my future husband_, Draco mused bitterly. _Not so bad when they weren't snarling at each other_. He remembered thinking Potter a lot uglier in school. But the eyes were as brilliant as they always had been, blazing green.

Potter seemed to be studying him as well, and Draco wondered what the brunette was thinking of him.

Mother came to stand beside them.

"The first ritual has been completed," she said softly, looking meaningfully at Draco.

"Right," Potter said curtly, not looking at her. "I should be leaving then." He broke from Draco's gaze and turned to leave. Handing the chest to his mother, Draco decided to follow him on impulse. Time to hold on out a tentative olive branch if this courtship was going to go smoothly at all.

"Potter," he called as the raven haired man crossed the foyer. "Wait."

Potter stopped, listening, but did not turn around.

"I apologize for all of..._ this_," Draco said with a sweeping gesture. "I know this is not something you wanted."

There was a pause before the other man replied.

"And you, Malfoy? What did you want?"

Draco shook his head, surprised the first thing out of Harry's mouth was not a curse.

"What I want is irrelevant."

Potter did not turn around still, but his shoulders lost their tension for a moment.

A tell tale crack rang in the foyer as Dolly apparated in front of Draco.

She curtsied hurriedly.

"Beg your pardon, Master Draco, but Mister Adrian Pucey is waiting on fire call to go over company business."

"Thank you, Dolly," Draco said to her. "Please, tell him I shall be there momentarily."

Dolly curtsied again and popped back upstairs.

When Draco focused back on Potter, the man had turned around, eyeing Draco curiously.

"Did I just hear a Malfoy thank a house elf?" Potter sneered in a way that could rival Draco's.

Draco raised an eyebrow, surprised by the assumption in Potter's tone.

"I am afraid not all Malfoys treat their house elves with the same kind of _vigor_ my father did," Draco answered coolly at the barbed comment. "Dolly has been my elf since I was three years old. She was in charge of looking after and entertaining me as a child. She has always been loyal to me"

Potter's mouth opened slightly to retort before shaking himself mentally.

"I apologize then, Malfoy," Harry said briskly with as much politeness as Malfoy could expect. "For my statement." He turned to leave again.

"Potter, I understand that we have never been fond of each other," Draco called out, wanting to show that he at least did not want to come to blows, no matter what their past had been. He remembered his therapist harping about making amends with people he had hurt as being therapeutic, which forced him to take a deep breath before his next sentence. _Mother would be pleased to know the money on therapy had not been wasted._ He continued.

"I also acted ill befitting a respectable wizard at times when we were in school. I do not expect us to feel warm and cozy about the circumstances that have brought us together, but do me one favor during this trial we are about to undergo: remember that I _am not _my father. The boy that emulated him grew up. I am my own person now."

He saw Potter almost turn around, but he chose instead simply to nod his head as a sign of having heard before he walked out of the Manor as Dolly bowed to him at the open doors.


	5. Chapter 5

_The lovely J. K. Rowling owns all of HPverse. On the insistence of hotflower901, I have provided Harry a lawyer, which helped work out complications further down the road. Thanks for reading!_

Harry had come over for dinner at the Burrow after his practice, his hair still sweaty as he came through the door and was encircled in a hug by Mrs. Weasley.

She held him out in front of her, making her usual fuss. "Oh, Harry. You're getting more handsome every day!"

Harry's cheeks reddened.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley."

"To think that a fine catch like you being forced to marry into that family. Oh, I swear if I see that Narcissa Malfoy, it will take every virtue I have not to blast that upturned nose of hers right off her face!"

Harry's face brightened more. Of course, Mrs. Weasley knew. Ron and Hermione had to tell the whole family before Harry started the next ritual or they'd think he'd been Imperiused. But it was still embarrassing.

"Please, Mrs. Weasley, I wouldn't want you to get into any trouble on my account," he said quickly, but Mrs. Weasley just shook her head over and over, muttering about hexes.

"Oi, mate!" Ron called, walking into the kitchen, eating a sandwich.

Harry greeted him back as Ron's mother turned around and eyed the half eaten ham and swiss.

"Ronald!" she cried. "Here I am, slaving over dinner, and you're filling yourself up on sandwiches!" She cast a spell, and his sandwich disappeared.

"Mum!" he whined, looking incredulously at his hand where he sandwich had been in. "You know I will eat whatever you put on the dinner plate."

But Mrs. Weasley would not hear any of it and shooed them out of the kitchen while she finished the pot roast.

The two joined Hermione in the living room, and he and Ron talked about Ron's latest work at the Firebolt Brooms research facility. Ron was recounting testing out his latest Anti-fall charm on the new Firebolt prototype when more of the Weasley family came in.

"Eh! Harry! Heard you're engaged to the ferret! When are the kits due?" George joked as he plopped down on an arm chair.

Harry was about to retort, but was beaten to it.

"That's not funny, George," Ginny said entering the room. She sat on the edge of the couch by Harry and patted his hand.

"I am so sorry, Harry," she said, biting her lip. Harry squeezed her hand in thanks. It was a little early to take George's ribbing.

"Want me to send him a box of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes chocolates. There's a nougat filled one that makes hair grow out of your tongue," George asked.

"And I am helping him with one that won't stop screaming bloody murder until you finish eating it," Ginny chipped in.

Her face turned thoughtful. "A bit disturbing, really."

She shrugged, and her face brightened.

Harry allowed himself a small smile. "I'll keep that in mind, thanks."

"George! Ginny! I need the garden degnomed!" Mrs. Weasley called from the kitchen.

"Again!" the two groaned in unison.

"They keep coming back with a vengeance, the little buggers. One bit me twice" George grumbled.

"Now, please!" Mrs. Weasley said, her voice taking on that hint of warning they'd all come to fear.

"All right, all right," Ginny answered, and the two siblings pushed themselves out of their seats and walked back to the kitchen.

Harry heard George ask Ginny if they should try the nougat on one of the gnomes.

"Thank Merlin you're here, Harry, or I would have to go with them," Ron said, chuckling.

Another familiar head of red hair walked in.

"Hey everyone. All right there, Harry?"

"Percy!" Hermione cried and leapt up to hug him. "We haven't seen you for the past two dinners!"

Percy hugged her back, grinning and straightening his horn rimmed glasses. "Sorry, Herms, but the office has been really busy. And with Penelope being so far along, you know."

Harry and Ron stood to shake hands with the young man.

"Where is Penelope?" Ron asked, looking over Percy's shoulder.

"Home," Percy answered. "That belly of hers is making it hard for her to do much but sit. Has to go to the bathroom every fifteen minutes it seems. We'll both be glad when the baby comes."

"Oh," Hermione gushed as Percy took the arm chair George had been sitting in. "Have you settled on a name?"

"Er, not yet, but we're leaning toward Allison right now." Percy's smile faded a little as he turned to face Harry specifically when they'd all sat back down.

"So I hear you are to be married," Percy said gruffly.

"Uh, yeah," Harry muttered, wishing everyone would stop bringing it up. He was having enough trouble not thinking about the whole thing.

"Well, I'm surprised you did not come to me immediately after you had found out."

"Wha-" Harry began, confused, and Hermione smacked her forehead with her hand. "Of course, we should have," Hermione said, exasperated with herself, it sounded. "You have experience in Wizarding law."

"Damn," Harry cursed, completely having forgotten that Percy had apprenticed in law before deciding to take the job in Ludicrous Patents at the Ministry. "Don't tell me that-"

"Oh, no. You still have to marry Malfoy. No way around that," Percy said, and Harry slumped down again. "But you'll want a representative for the marriage contract, because believe me, Narcissa will try to put everything in Draco's favor with that Goblin lawyer they've got. For instance, you want to make sure that your finances are protected in the event that you die or Malfoy will be entitled to half."

"Malfoy's got a goblin lawyer!" Ron exclaimed. "I thought that would be beneath their wizard's pride."

Percy shook his head. "Not when Goblins are the best at twisting words around. Any advantage, any loophole that there is, a goblin will find it."

Harry, Hermione, and Ron all grew quiet. They remembered their last dealing with a goblin down in the vaults of Gringotts; it had not gone very well.

"Who initiated the courtship?" Percy asked, leaning in and resting his elbows on his knees.

"I did," Harry answered, snapping out of his memories of Griphook.

"That's good," Percy said. "It gives you an advantage. Your demands will be considered on a more equal footing. Of course, there are some things that can't be negotiated, like the Infedilus Charm, the producing of an heir..."

"An heir?" Harry interrupted. "But we're two blokes. We can't have children."

"A surrogate witch will obviously be used, impregnated by both parties," the older Weasley answered.

"And the Infedilus Charm...?" Harry asked.

Percy pressed his lips together.

Hermione cleared her throat.

"It means, Harry-Oh Merlin!-uh, that neither of you can have sex...with anyone else. The charm won't let you."

"What the devil?" Harry yelled.

"Legitimacy and public standing is very important to most pureblood families. To commit adultery is one of the highest embarrassments and grounds for immediate divorce, not something often granted. Therefore, by signing the contract, the charm takes effect and makes you, um, unable to perform with anyone other than the spouse. The surrogate impregnation would happen by magic."

"So if I ever want to have a go with anyone again, it has to be with Malfoy?" Harry put rather indelicately, clenching his fist.

Ron looked like he'd swallowed a vomit flavored Bertie Botts. He gagged.

"The next part of the courtship is to publicize Draco's and his relationship," Hermione said softly to Percy.

Hermione and Ron knew the rituals as well as Harry, having also read Mrs. Malfoy's book. Percy nodded, showing he knew the rituals as well.

"Very well. How do you plan to do it?" Percy asked.

Harry took deep breaths, willing the nausea away before he could speak.

"I was thinking of taking Malfoy to a restaurant, that way plenty of people would see us..." Harry forced the next word out. "_Together_. That seems pretty public, right?"

Ron was twirling a pawn in his fingers from the nearby chess board to distract him from the previous news, "Sounds good; the _Daily Prophet_ will have a field day, though."

"But that would really be the point," Hermione said beside him, knowing Harry had already considered this. "The whole thing will come out anyway. Marriage contracts are open records."

Percy confirmed her statement.

Harry looked around at the other three for help. "So then, where should I take him? I doubt that Malfoy would want to debut at the Leaky Cauldron."

Ron laughed, and Hermione and Percy even had to smile at her mental picture of Draco's disgust as Tom waited on them.

"Why don't you? Would do the little bleeder good to knock him off his high horse," Ron asked Harry.

Percy frowned at this suggestion. "Can't. The courtships rules state that all rituals be carried out with utmost respect. If Harry embarrasses Malfoy, it will backfire on him."

"I had already thought of that, too, " Harry agreed.

Hermione thought, tugging on a loose thread on the hem of her t-shirt.

"How about Ambrosia, that one exclusive place just off Diagon Alley. Ron took me there for our year anniversary, and it is very posh. A lot of famous wizards eat there."

"Yeah, Mum was going on about how Celestina Warbeck was spotted there just last week." Percy put in. "Reporters are always waiting outside."

Ron smiled darkly.

"Oh yeah. Costs me an arm and a leg there. Malfoy will love it."

Hermione gave him an annoyed look, and Ron blushed.

"Not that you weren't worth every penny, love," he amended quickly, putting an arm around her.

Harry laughed. Though Hermione and Ron had been very successful in their careers and lived quite comfortably, Ron still had issues at times with remembering that he did not have to live so frugally anymore.

"Alright then. Do you have to have a reservation?" Harry asked, and Hermione snorted at him.

"Harry! You are the savior of the wizarding world. They would show you to a table in a heart beat."

Harry blushed.

"Cut that out, Mione."

"I think that sounds like a good plan," Percy said.

Harry resigned himself.

"Alright, Ambrosia it is, then. Can't be too bad."

"Just make sure you two look like a couple," Hermione added and Harry and Ron both looked a bit green.

"I don't mean make out with him in the street Harry!" she rolled her eyes at the two.

"You are making a statement, though. So, you know, don't sit ten feet away from him."

Harry sighed. "I wish this could be a long distance relationship."

Ron started laughing. "Look on the brightside, mate. He could choke on a chicken bone and then you'd be out of this mess."

"Ron!" Hermione reprimanded him. "That's awful!"

"Oh, listen to her," Ron snickered. "She's taking a softening to Malfoy ever since you told us about how he treated the house elf. As if she was not the one who lobbied for the" -his voice mocked Hermione's-"_Improved Treatment and Care of House Elves act_. He can't treat his elves badly anymore, Herms."

Hermione threw a cushion at his laughing face which shut her husband up, though his eyes still twinkled.

"The act makes him give his house elves proper uniforms and banned corporeal punishment of any kind. The act does not make him say _please_, Ron," Hermione sniffed haughtily, but was quickly laughing and swatting Ron with her hand as he tickled her sides.

Percy raised an amused eyebrow, and Harry had to grin at his two best friends, watching them act like they'd been married for twenty years instead of two, but that grin dampened as a sad thought erupted into his head as he contemplated his first "date" with Malfoy.

_He would never have a marriage like theirs_, he lamented.

Just then Harry's godson, Teddy burst into the room and ran into Harry's lap, pulling the young man out of his down mood.

"Uncle Hawwy!" The little boy cried happily, his hair a vivid shade of neon green. "Take me flying on your bwoom!"

Mrs. Tonks was smiling in the doorway.

"We got here at the same time as Arthur," she said. "He's been on and on about seeing you, today. I could barely get him dressed properly he was bouncing around so much."

"Flying!" Teddy demanded, pulling on Harry's robes.

"After dinner," Harry answered, ruffling the boy's hair. "I promise."

"Yay!" Teddy yelled and ran off to his grandmother.

Remembering what Percy had said about the contract and that his will left Teddy with most of Harry's fortune, he caught the older Weasley's eye, new determination filling his chest to make sure he at least was covered in all of this.

"Will you represent me, Percy?" he asked.

"Of course, Harry. I'd be honored. You're good as family." Percy answered warmly.

But any more conversation was brought to a halt as Mrs. Weasley's voice boomed, "Dinner's ready!"


	6. Chapter 6

_The lovely J. K. Rowling owns all of HPverse. First fic posted. Thank for reading!_

Draco and his mother were back on speaking terms, but all attempts on her part to speak about Draco's new "intended" were being quickly dismissed by him at the moment.

"Everything I do is out of love for you, son. I want you to know that," she had told him at dinner after Potter left.

Of course Draco knew that, and he loved her, too, but he was still frustrated at the situation, the lack of choice, no matter how well intentioned. Had circumstances been more favorable, Draco would have had his pick of intendeds, but fate had given him Potter.

He had seen the disbelief in Potter's face with the way Draco spoke to Dolly, as if Draco were incapable of a simple courtesy. The war had not changed everything. First impressions and seven years of rivalry had not changed the image of Draco as the naive and spoiled bastard he had acted like. Potter could never understand the Slytherin brand of loyalty, how many of the Slytherins were manipulated by their parents, how they were brainwashed into believing in pureblood supremacy from infancy, how they had no choice but to accept what their parents said.

Not to say that Draco had lost pride in his pureblood status; a Malfoy he would always be. But he had had to go through rehabilitation after the war, learn how to be humble when his father was put into Azkaban, how to survive social ostracism with his mother. Potter would not know the efforts Draco had made in therapy to heal the trauma inflicted on him during the Dark Lord's stay at the manner, the desperate failed mission to kill Dumbledore, the War. Voldemort would have killed him and his family without a second thought if Draco had not obeyed. Voldemort, a half blood wizard he discovered later, preaching the values of magical purity. What a horrible, cruel joke. It was then that Draco had discovered he no longer believed the lies he'd spoon fed him all his life by his father. Slow anger churned acid in his stomach as Draco dwelled on the past few years.

He sighed, putting down the notes he'd been making about a new potion. It did not do to wish ill on the dead, especially on one's father. Lucius had been blind, manipulative, and harsh, but he had done all he could to protect his family. Father was always so proud, it nearly broke him to realize how wrong the side they were on had been. All of he had sacrificed, all the times the Dark Lord had made torturing and humiliating his father for the tiniest reason, all in vain. So many people hated his father without having ever really known that being a servant of the Dark Lord was at times worse than being an enemy.

Draco rubbed his forearm over his sleeve where the Dark Lord had cursed him. The infection had at least stopped festering after Voldemort's death, but it would never heal.

Draco broke off his dark thoughts and stood out of his favorite leather chair in the Malfoy library. He needed to get ready. Potter was due to arrive in an hour to pick him up for the dinner that would be the public announcement of their courtship. Draco wished Potter and he could have had a private dinner before hand, to at least break the ice, get some thoughts out in the open, but Potter was the one who had to initiate the first stages before the engagement took place, and the blonde was sure that Potter wanted to spend only the minimum time required to satisfy the life debt.

Draco climbed the grand staircase to his wing, entered his room, and began stripping off his robes. He went to his master bath and turned the crystal knobs of his shower all the way to the right. He let the hot water run, wanting the bathroom as steamy as possible while he walked through his room to his closet, the same size as his entire master suite.

He fingered the suits he had, trying to imagine what he would look best in on the front page of the _Prophet_. Because this was going to be headline news: "Savior of the World and Son of a Renowned Death Eater: Childhood Enemies to Romantic Pair." As a Malfoy, Draco had to appear flawless and confident under the scrutiny of the press. He just hoped that Potter would try to do the same. _Hmmm_, he thought. _Better get used to using Potter's actual first name if he wanted to pull this thing off as smoothly as possible._

"Harry," Draco said aloud to himself in his closet. He rolled the name around on his tongue; it felt so foreign. "Harry," he repeated with more firmness as turned to his rows of trousers hovering neatly together by color.

After some debate, he finally decided on the charcoal three piece suit with the silver gray tie that matched his eyes. The blonde smiled to himself as he let the luxurious silk material slide through his fingers. Silver was his favorite color, not hard to tell with his bedroom being completely themed around a silver and white combo, making the furniture look modern yet classic.

He laid out the suit on his bed and stepped into the bathroom turned sauna and began scrubbing himself with potions all from his own line, promising to leave him polished and delicious smelling. After all, Draco only used the best on his hair, his appearance being his biggest vanity.

Forty-five minutes later, he was clean, shaven, and dressed, having Dolly remove any fuzz or loose hairs from his outfit before donning the matching robes.

Potter arrived shortly after, as another house elf announced his presence.

Draco bowed to him as he descended the staircase, and Harry bowed back stiffly. Normally the parents would be present to see the pair off, as was tradition, but Narcissa had thought things would move more smoothly without her presence irritating Potter, and Potter's parents were deceased.

"How are you, Malfoy?" Potter asked.

"Well, and you, _Harry_?" Draco returned politely, trying out the name, amused at the brunette's surprise at hearing it on his rival's lips.

"Fine, _Draco_" he replied, putting emphasis on the name as well. "Are we ready to go?"

Draco took a moment to inspect the black haired man's outfit, measuring Harry up. Underneath dark robes, he wore black trousers and a vest without a blazer, his white shirt's top button undone, the hollow of his throat peeking out. Harry was clean shaven, his glasses not present. _Must be using a temporary eye correction spell_, Draco thought, nodding to himself in approval at the missing piece of Harry's trademark look. Draco frowned mentally as his eyes got to Potter's hair. It looked like it had undergone a flattening charm but was still fighting to look as unruly as possible.

"Not quite. Dolly," Draco called for his loyal elf.

"Yes, sir." Dolly said after a crack with her customary curtsy.

"Please bring a jar of hair potions from my personal stock. The one named "Windblown Whimsy"."

"Of course, Master Draco," she answered and was back in a flash with the jar.

Potter frowned as Draco stepped closer to him.

"I make my own cosmetics," Draco explained. "Very successful. And as much as I applaud you on your, erm, effort to reign in that hair of yours-"

Potter ground his teeth and looked ready to snarl in objection.

"-I must insist that you give one of my potions a try."

Potter looked defensive. "It looks fine," he grumbled, bringing up a hand to flatten it more.

Draco tutted, trying to approach the topic again.

"Look here, _Harry_. We are about to unveil our pseudo relationship to the wizarding world. Now you may not give a damn, and usually I wouldn't either, but I am the head of a cosmetic company. I think you would agree that it would not look well if my "intended" had" Draco chose his words carefully" less than perfect hair. Not realistic. So, _please_, trust me on this. I want to get this over with as much as you do."

Potter looked at the jar and back at Draco, scowling for a good five minutes, and then took on the same resigned expression he had when giving Draco the chest.

"Oh, all right then. Get on with it," Harry snapped.

"Thank you," Draco said, ignoring the harsh tone of Harry's voice, and opened the jar. He took a small glob of the thick mango smelling concoction and worked it through the thick raven locks after casting a finite at the flattening charm.

"I am only going to use a little as we don't want to lose that "just got off a broom" look all you Quidditch players have. I just want it to look a little more purposeful," Draco explained as he fixed the pieces of hair in attractive angles. Harry's eyes avoided his all the while. Draco stepped back when he was finished, admiring his work.

"There. Only slightly tousled."

He transfigured the jar into a mirror and handed it to Potter.

Potter took it and studied himself, turning his head to the side, no doubt to make sure Draco hadn't made his hair fall out or something. Draco waited patiently.

"Looks alright," he said grudgingly and handed the mirror back to Draco. Draco turned the mirror back into the jar of hair potion, shrank it to pocket size, and tossed it to Harry, whose seeker reflexes reacted immediately, his hand closing around it like a tiny snitch.

"For you," Draco said, watching as Harry slowly slipped it into his pocket, still eyeing Malfoy sharply.

"Can we go then?" Harry asked, and Draco nodded. They walked out the door to the apparation point and set their minds on to the entrance of Diagon Alley.

With a crack they were at the entrance wall, where Harry was about to tap the bricks. He paused.

"Er, wait." He said putting his wand down. "We...we need to hold hands before we go in."

His face looked pained as he said this aloud. Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"We have to look like a couple, don't we?" Harry snapped defensively.

Draco's face smoothed out. "But of course," he agreed.

They stood there for a moment looking at each other's hands like they were spiders waiting to attack, wondering who would make the first move, until Harry gave in and held out his hand to Draco with a heavy sigh.

Draco took it tentatively and slid his fingers into Potter's. Draco was taken a back at how warm their hands felt together, how well they fit. Harry's hands were a little rough from Quidditch, but all in all not too awkward. _Well at least he's not trying to break my wrist yet_, Draco thought.

Potter was about to hit the bricks again when Draco interrupted this time.

"One moment," Draco called, and he took a deep breath, steeling himself for the onslaught. "Okay," he said to Harry, and Harry nodded.

Together they turned back to the wall, hands entwined, watching as the bricks shifted and retracted into the entrance way.


	7. Chapter 7

The lovely J.K. Rowling owns all HPverse. Thanks for reading!

Harry grip on Draco's hand tightened reflexively as the first reporter spotted them advancing to the restaurant and shouted, "It's Harry Potter! And blimey...DRACO MALFOY!" Cameras turned in their direction and circled, flashing in rapid succession. He froze a smile firmly on his face while his eyes saw spots from all the lights.

Harry had always disliked the press, but he had discovered in his adult years that if he could not avoid them then he could at least try to control the situation. And he was going to try to control it now.

"Mister Potter, Mister Potter! How long have you and Draco been dating?" One reporter asked, igniting the frenzy.

"Draco, darling, _Bewitched Style_ magazine, who designed your suit?"

"Who asked who out first?" Another pressed.

"Could you both turn a little to the right?" A camera flashed

"Harry, is Draco the reason why you and Terry Boot broke up?"

Harry tensed at that last question, knowing "no comment" would only fuel speculation usually. With Harry being slow to react, Draco jumped in.

"Harry was unattached when we started dating," Draco replied smoothly. "Next question."

"Draco, do you support Harry's team for the England Cup?"

"Who else would I support?" Draco answered, and gave the crowd a smile.

"Draco! Your cosmetic line is really taking off. Is it true you'll be opening up a shop in Diagon Alley soon?"

"Yes, it's true. Dragon Tamer will be moving in sometime in the next few months, complete with a spa."

Harry almost snorted but recovered quickly. Dragon Tamer, how cheesy, Harry thought and mentally rolled his eyes.

"Of course, the Appleby Arrows will be getting a free pass as soon as we open." Draco added and the crowd murmured in approval.

Harry raised an eyebrow at Draco, surprised by such a generous announcement. Draco gave Harry a tiny wink before dropping Harry's hand and putting it loosely on his waist. "Anything for my favorite Quidditch player." Bulbs went off all around.

Oh, fuck, Harry groaned inwardly. Draco was laying it on thick, and Harry wanted to swat his hand off his waist but could not do anything will all these reporters. He turned his attention back to the cameras as another question was directed toward him.

"Harry, what made you decide to pursue Draco?"

Harry glanced at Draco. Draco looked at him, this time raising his eyebrow, waiting along with the rest of the crowd for his answer. Saying that the man's mother forced them together through a life debt was not the way to go, obviously, as Percy had advised it was better to appear going along with everything willingly, but Harry could not think of anything but the truth. Hit with a burst of inspiration, he answered as truthfully as possible, "There was just something about Draco that made us _have_ to be together."

Draco smirked at this answer, almost looking like the boy at Hogwarts Harry had known, but more questions were hurled at them and then Draco looked away.

"Draco, how do you think your father would feel about you dating the man who ultimately put him in Azkaban?" one reporter asked oily.

The hand on Harry's waist clenched, and Harry looked quickly to see the muscle in the blonde's jaw tighten. The reporter was obviously baiting a reaction, trying to embarrass Draco. Even Harry could not help but admire the cool response that came out next, impressed with the tact it preserved, having known Draco's short temper when they were young.

"My father was blinded, like _many_ others." He emphasized the others. "His imprisonment was unfortunate and grieved by my family, as was even more so his death," Draco said evenly, looking the reporter directly in the eye. "However, his imprisonment was due to his own choices, not Harry. And to answer your question fully, I think my father would be proud that I had found such a worthy match to make me happy."

Harry had to keep his mouth from dropping open at that last bit. Lucius must be rolling over in his grave, he thought. Nevertheless, he raised a hand for the questioning to cease, knowing Draco was as tired of the questions as he was now.

"No more questions, please. My date and I would like to have dinner now. We just wanted to officially announce our relationship, and share our-"Harry paused, knowing the next word was not exactly appropriate to the situation-": happiness. Good evening."

More questions immediately rang out, shocked at the serious implications this announcement held, knowing pureblood traditions, and reporters waved around wildly for their attention as Harry led Draco into the restaurant. Inside, the hostess took one look at Harry's famous face when he said "Somewhere private please" and seated them to table in a more shut off alcove of the restaurant. Harry looked around appreciatively at the low lighting and minimal decoration as she handed Draco a menu. The place was as nice as Hermione had said.

The hostess took their drink orders, and they were left to contemplate their menus in silence.

"So," Harry commented, thinking he should be seen talking to Draco, "Do you know what you're getting?"

"Yes," was all Draco said, and Harry could see frustration had leaked out into his facial features. He was still made about the question about his dad, Harry knew. A fleeting sympathy passed through him as Harry knew better than anyone how the press could get out of line. Rita Skeeter had been only the beginning.

"Are you, erm, all right?" he asked awkwardly.

Draco held up a hand, "Quite. Pp-, er, Harry. I am used to git reporters like that. My father fought on the wrong side. I would expect nothing less."

They sat in silence again.

The waiter appeared, a man about their age with extreme blond highlights in his dark hair.

"Have you gentlemen decided on what you would like this evening?" He asked, and Harry saw the young man give Draco the once over and a warm smile.

Draco fingered the menu delicately sparing only a glance at it.

"I'll have the Butternut Squash and Pear Ravioli with Rosemary Sauce. Make sure you use the vegan substitute for the parmesan, please," Draco drawled, swiftly handing the menu to the waiter without making anymore eye contact than necessary. The waiter looked disappointed at the quick dismissal.

"And you, sir?" He asked with less cheer, turning to Harry but peeking at Draco out of the corner of his eye.

"The grilled salmon, thanks," Harry said, and handed his menu, watching amused as the waiter walked away.

Draco swirled his wine glass in his hand.

For lack of conversation, Harry asked, "What's vegan?"

Draco brought the glass to his nose and inhaled before answering.

"Basically anything with no meat, poultry, seafood, dairy, or any animal by products of any kind. I don't eat anything that caused another animal death or discomfort."

"Oh," Harry said, a little confused and surprised at the answer, then, "Uh, I ordered fish. Is that okay?"

Draco chuckled softly. "Yes, Harry. My diet is my choice. I don't care what you eat." Draco looked to think for a moment. "But thanks for asking." He took a sip of wine.

"So why do you not eat, um, all of that stuff?" Harry asked, putting his elbows on the table and then taking them off when he remembered it was bad manners.

"Compassion, for the most part." Draco answered, not looking at Harry. "It was hard to eat a being that once was alive, after, after living in the same house as... and seeing..." Draco trailed off.

Harry was shocked. He knew Draco was talking about Voldemort. Harry was sure Draco had seen awful things there but was surprised it had affected the man to such a degree. Harry shook himself. Surely Malfoy had grown up seeing that kind of thing.

The awkwardness had thickened around them, so the brunette forced the conversation to life again.

"So," he forced a straight face as he finished his sentence. "Tell me about Dragon Tamer."

Draco considered Harry across the table, but seemed to approve of the change in subject.

"We specialize in hair care products mostly, but we also have some potions for skin, lips, and nails. It has been very successful to be only by owl. I have negotiating opening a shop in Diagon Alley for some time. The business is expanding quickly."

"And is that what you always wanted to do?" Harry prompted.

"Well, potions were always my passion. Best marks, under Granger, of course," he added, a little sourly." I actually fancied myself to work as a Healer specializing in antidotes as I am quite competent in brewing them, but St. Mungo's was hesitant to let a person of my family's loyalties into apprenticeship. So I had to find success else where."

"But surely, with all your wealth, you don't even have to work," Harry said, a hint of mockery in his voice.

"No, I don't have to, but I want to," Draco answered, ignoring Harry's jab. "A Malfoy should make his own way to contribute to the family's success. It teaches one to appreciate what one has."

Harry was surprised. Draco had seemed far too spoiled in youth to ever mention anything about appreciation.

"After all," Draco continued, "Are you not in the same situation. I know of your own wealth, Harry. A Quidditch player's salary pales in comparison."

Harry stopped, and then nodded, giving a small smile. "I see what you mean."

The waiter arrived with their food, pouring Draco more wine and telling him "to just ask if you need anything at all" before forced to retreat as Draco did not take the bait.

Harry snorted into his wine glass.

"And what, pray tell, is so funny?" Draco asked, smoothing his hair and picking up his knife and fork.

"The waiter. He's been trying to flirt with you all night," Harry said.

"Oh, yes. An unfortunate nuisance," Draco drawled. "Lacks tact doesn't he, flirting with me right in front of a date? I don't find that level of cockiness attractive."

"Maybe he just sees that we aren't all googley eyed at each other," Harry smirked.

It hit Harry then what Hermione had said about Draco might not being gay.

"Uh, so is it the cockiness that bothers you, or rather the..."

Draco's eyes snapped up.

"Are you asking me if I'm a pouf?" He demanded.

"Just curious. You have to marry a man," Harry replied, shrugging.

Draco's face was comical.

"I would think it would be quiet obvious. Just because I am not falling all over myself for some waiter with bad highlights does not mean that I am not attracted to men. Merlin Harry, you have terrible gay detecting abilities. Rest assured, I pitch for your team."

Harry blushed at the word "pitch" but felt a tiny bit of relief; at least he did not have to feel any guilt about Draco being a straight man. "Well, at least I know you aren't holding back from vomiting from holding my hand because I am a guy. Good to know it's all just me individually.

Draco smirked and brought his fork to his mouth.

"Harry!" a female voice called out

The two turned to see a beaming Luna Lovegood Zabini approaching their table, followed by her husband Blaise.

Luna swept Harry up in a hug, and Harry almost choked to see her hug Draco as well.

"Luna, you look enchanting as always," Draco told her, holding her out arm length, and Harry clenched at his fist.

"Well, I heard there was a commotion outside," Blaise grinned at the two, winking. "Apparently we've come to congratulate the new love birds."

Harry ignored Blaise's comment. He had come to respect Blaise since he'd started dating Luna. His family had stayed neutral through the war. But right now he was focused on Luna speaking cheerfully with the blonde.

Blaise stopped talking as did the rest of them when they spotted Harry's face.

Harry was imagining a much younger Luna than the one in front of him, glowing in midnight blue dress robes. Her clean, happy face was transformed into dirty and shadowed by the darkness of Malfoy's dungeons. Harry's mouth tightened. He could see her there with an almost comatose Olivander while the Malfoys sat in splendor upstairs by a warm fire. How could he sit here, drinking wine and laughing with someone his family had imprisoned, a family that had tried to kill him, who'd caused Dobby to die. All of his anger at the family reared its ugly head at once. Harry wanted to shout at Malfoy that he had no right to even look at Luna.

Draco must have noticed the shift in Harry's mood because he was eyeing him cautiously, remaining quiet, while Blaise looked perplexed. Luna's face was calm though as she spoke.

"Blaise, would you and Draco mind leaving us. Harry has something on his mind that he wishes to speak to me about."

"Er, right. Of course. Draco?" Blaise said, turning to his fellow Slytherin.

Draco nodded, standing up and drawing himself to his full height. They went to what Harry assumed was Blaise and Luna's table.

Harry struggled with himself, clenching his napkin in his fist under the table, grateful Draco had not spoken so he would not snap and cause a scene.

Luna sat in the chair beside Harry and fixed her great orbs of eyes on him.

"Harry, you shouldn't clench your jaw so hard. I could get stuck that way," she said in her sing song calm.

Harry glared at the table but slackened his jaw.

"Harry, do you have pippetts dancing on your head, because father tells me that causes wizards to lose their tempers."

Harry exhaled loudly. "No, Luna. I don't have whatchamacallits on my head."

"Aww," said Luna. "Then it's Malfoy."

"Luna!" Harry hissed. "How can you even speak to Draco after what his family did to you! They kidnapped you and locked you in a dungeon!"

Luna blinked as if Harry had just said something about the weather.

"Doesn't that matter?" Harry asked, exasperated.

Luna's eyes suddenly hardened and her voice had lost its whimsical tone.

"Yes, it does, Harry, but I have forgiven the Malfoys. They were prisoners almost as much as I was."

Harry's mouth dropped open in disbelief.

"Harry," Luna's voice was not as harsh but still serious. "Draco helped me in the dungeons."

"What?" Harry cried.

"He helped me, at great risk to himself. He was terrified of Voldemort, as was the rest of his family. But still, when he could he'd send Dolly with extra food or potions he'd brewed to relieve some of Olivander's pain."

Harry did not know what to say to this new information. He visualized the terrifying minutes he'd been in Malfoy Manor, recalling the way Draco had looked as his father begged him to confirm if Harry's bloated face hexed by Hermione was the face of Voldemort's greatest enemy. The blonde had been severely pale, thinner, shaking. His eyes had been so wide, frightened.

"Merlin!" Harry muttered. Luna's face softened.

"I would not judge someone I did not really know," Luna said, her voice taking on that sing song quality again. "Actually, I wouldn't go on a date with someone I didn't know either. You seem to be doing it out of order, Harry."

"Tell me about it," Harry said to himself.

"It's an interesting approach. I hope it works out for you two," Luna said.

Harry opened his mouth to reply but then shut it and shook his head. Let Luna see it her own way.

Her big eyes twinkled as she opened up the dessert menu on the table.

"Oh, goody. They have pudding flambé," she said with a smile.


	8. Chapter 8

_J.K. Rowling owns all of HPverse. Thanks for reading! Happy Fourth of July!_

Draco and Blaise took seats at a table half a room away from their dates. He motioned for a waiter to bring him a new glass of wine.

"Alright, out with it," Blaise demanded.

Draco eyed Blaise. "My dear friend, whatever are you referring, too?" he asked smoothly, feigning ignorance.

"About Harry and you?" Blaise asked, still firm.

"Well, Blaise, you see when a man and another man find each other attractive..."

"Ha ha. You know what I mean," Blaise pressed.

"I can assure you that I do not," Draco said with a shrug.

Blaise snorted. "What do you take me for? A Hufflepuff. Draco, you were one of the few Slytherins I actually consider a genuine friend. And as a friend, I have to tell you that your lying is shit. Anyone can see Potter was sending you death glares."

Draco stared levelly at Blaise while he continued.

"Only a happy couple around the press, eh? How'd you pull Potter into this farce?"

"I did not force Potter into a relationship," gritted Draco. "I would never-"

"Then who did?"

Draco pressed his lips together and looked at the wine glass the waiter had just set down. He trusted Blaise, though Blaise had publicly acted like he was dismissive of everyone, even his housemates, so as not to appear to have any loyalties for the sake of his family's neutral state. Out of all the Slytherins in his year, the dark complected man had been the best at keeping secrets, but still, trust was not a habit for Slytherins.

Blaise's eyes glittered. "Maybe we should just walk over and ask Harry. I'm sure he'd be happy to-"

"My mother," Draco muttered, knowing Blaise made good on his threats. Always had in school.

"Mummy dearest?" Blaise mock gasped. "Blackmailing poor Potter. What could she possibly have over him?"

Draco looked around at the other diners and leaned in.

"A life debt," he whispered.

Blaise's jaw dropped. "You're serious?"

Draco nodded and straightened up. He fiddled with the button on his blazer and then stopped. His father had hated fidgeting.

"So Harry's got to sweep you off your feet and make you his bride!" Blaise whispered, laughing softly.

"I think he'd rather hex me off my feet, but yes, that is the gist," Draco said, ignoring the jab of him as the woman in the relationship.

"You should have told me sooner," Blaise ribbed. "I needed a good laugh earlier in the week.

"Oh, as helpful as ever, you are," Draco said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "I almost contacted you when Mother dropped it on me, but you were in Japan for the ministry. Which by the way, you better have brought me back a bottle of sake or I'll be very upset."

"With onyx stone sake set," Blaise grinned. "My, my. Mother Malfoy has been a sneaky snake."

"Yes," Draco mocked. "Because your mother is the picture of virtue."

Blaise smirked at the comment, knowing his mother's reputation to be too true.

"I think she might actually hang on to this latest husband. Smart wizard, he is. Snuck a little clause in the marriage contract right before they were married saying that if he is to die of anything other than natural causes, she won't get a single knut."

The two men chuckled.

Blaise looked over the table at his wife.

"Well, looks like my Luna has improved your boyfriend's mood," he told Draco, and Draco cast a discreet glance in that direction. "I think it is safe to return now."

Draco took a sip of his wine before the two gentlemen made their back over.

"Oh, hello again, darling. Draco," Luna beamed. "I just ordered us pudding."

Blaise took her hand. "Sounds wonderful," he said and kissed the hand he was holding.

"So," Draco asked, having sat by a much calmer looking Harry. "Everything aright with you two?"

"Oh, yes," Luna answered. "Harry just had some pippettes dancing on his head, and we had to scare them off. The little spikes on their feet have a toxin that causes a person to become quite angry." She said this last part conspiratorially to Draco.

"Really? Pippettes. Who knew?" Draco answered with polite enthusiasm. His friend's dear wife may have actually proved the existence of the crumple-horned snorkack as a magizoologist, but that did not mean that all of the beasts she talked about were real. Whatever Harry was mad over, it was not because of spiky footed things doing pirouette on his scar head.

Harry blushed at her explanation.

Blaise grinned at Harry. "Don't worry, Harry. Happens to me all the time when I'm on the job as an ambassador. International affairs can become quite heated."

"So do you know what you two will do for your next outing? You are following the rituals, right?" Luna asked.

"But of course," Draco answered.

"Ah, the rituals," Blaise sighed, looking off into the distance at some happy memory. "Wizarding traditions at its finest. The initiation. The public displays. The sharing of heirlooms." Blaise winked at Draco at the next sentence. "And of course, the engagement party."

Draco gave Blaise a look that said he was not amusing. Blaise ignored it.

"Luna, do you remember how we announced our courtship?"

Luna's eyes lit up and her face glowed.

"He bought an island and named it "Luna."

Draco saw Harry's mouth drop open. Draco mentally rolled his eyes. Buying an island for someone else was even to ostentatious for his taste.

"There's a healthy population of moon frogs that must have migrated to Earth, so the name is sweet and appropriate," she said, happily.

"Wow! What did you do for the next date? After the, uh, announcement?" Harry piped up, sounding curious. Draco was reminded again this was new to Harry as he'd been raised by muggles.

"Oh, we kept that one simple," Blaise laughed. "We went dancing."

Luna's eyes got even bigger than their already enlarged state.

"Harry!" Luna said breathlessly. "You and Draco have to come on a double date with us. That can be the next step in publicly displaying your relationship."

"Erm..." Harry said.

"Oh, yes," Blaise said. "You two must. We're going on Friday to The Newt's Eye, that new dance bar."

"I don't think we should-" Harry started at the same time Draco was saying, "Harry and I have terribly busy schedules-"

"Oh, you can't say no," Blaise said, mischief written all over his face. "We'll be forced to announce you coming to the Prophet if you don't. It'll be a riot if you are no shows."

"What?" they both spluttered.

"He wouldn't do that, would he, Lun?" Harry asked her in a horrified whisper.

Luna shrugged. "He was a Slytherin," she answered as if this was explanation enough.

"I'll kill you," Draco muttered at his friend darkly.

"You can after you dance with us," Blaise said simply.

"But Blaise," Harry moaned. "Remember the Yule Ball. Dancing is not my thing."

"Nonsense, Harry," Blaise chuckled. "Just follow Draco's lead."

Harry looked like he was silently choking.

"So you are coming?" Luna asked, putting a freshly appeared napkin in her lap as the pudding arrived, set aflame with a blazing purple fire.

The two glanced at each other, Draco with his arms crossed and Harry looking ill.

"It seems we don't have a choice," Harry mumbled finally.

_Again_, Draco thought bitterly.


	9. Chapter 9

The lovely J. K. Rowling owns all of HPverse. Part of Harry's memories come directly from Deathly Hallows, Chapter Thirty-One. Thanks for reading!

Harry and Draco briskly strolled past the reporters, the bouncer holding open the door of the club entrance for them as they crossed the magical boundary that would not let unwanted persons inside. They had apparated to a meeting place and walked around the block together with little conversation, Harry walking with his hands in his dark wash jeans, contemplating the blonde beside him for the hundredth time that day.

The club was dark with glowing mist on the floor and neon colored light fairies bobbing above Harry's head. Fast paced music pulsed all around and the bar was filled with shot glasses being floated down to its patrons by the bartenders. A space for dancing was crowded by couples spinning and stepping in time.

The pair was waved over to a table by Hermione and Luna, who'd been watching for them. They scooted in the circular booth, Draco on the outside with his left arm stretched over the back of the seat and Harry sitting by Hermione with Luna and Blaise by Ron.

Harry and Luna's eyes met across the table as Hermione gave him a small, one armed hug and Ron greeted him warmly. Luna gave Harry a strange smile, as if she could see what Harry had been thinking since their conversation at Ambrosia. Harry blushed; then the moment of understanding ceased as she greeted Draco in a rhythmic phrase.

"So what do you think of The Newt's Eye?" Blaise asked, attempting to catch the attention of a waitress.

"Wonderful," Hermione gushed.

"Loud," Draco answered, smiling.

"Why do they call it The Newt's Eye, I wonder?" Ron vocalized.

"Oh, it's named after their signature drink. I asked the bartender," Luna volunteered, finding Blaise's hand on the table. "It's a martini with a newt eye instead of an olive. Apparently the newt eye gives it an extra kick. The Weird Sisters say it's their favorite."

Ron looked like he was sorry he asked, and Harry felt his stomach give protest to the idea.

A green haired waitress with fairies bobbing around her head came to their table, a quill and pad floating beside her. "What can I get ya?" she asked over the music.

"Red currant rum on the rocks, please," Blaise started the list.

"Oh, oh!" Luna asked. "Do you have dirigible plum Margaritas?"

The waitress gave her a confused look. "Dirgiwhat?" she asked.

"Darling," Blaise said gently to his wife. "Dirigible Plums are a bit, um, _exotic_. I don't think they have that kind."

Harry laughed to himself. Blaise had become quite used to Luna's strange tastes.

Luna shrugged. "Oh well, a pumpkin margarita then." The quill went to work. The waitress nodded at Ron.

"A pint of Blishen's," Ron called over the table.

"And, um, I think I'll have a Dementor-Be-Gone," Hermione added.

"What's that?" Ron asked.

"A thick chocolate liqueur blended with ice cream, a chocolate frog at the bottom, and chocolate sprinkles on top," the waitress rattled off." Delicious and strong."

Ron lifted his eyebrow at his wife.

Hermione laughed, "Ginny told me about it."

The quill scribbled away and then paused for Harry's order. "Uhhh,..." Harry wasn't familiar with too many drinks. He said the first one that popped in his head. "A Gillywater?"

"A Gillywater, really?" Draco snorted. "Mind as well give you real water. Scratch that. He'll have a Phoenix Rising and I'll have a Goblin's Dream, thanks," he ordered with authority and the waitress nodded approvingly as the quill finished.

Harry felt his cheeks burn, that familiar anger at the blonde creeping up no matter what he'd been thinking. "I can order a drink for myself," he said firmly. Ron straightened up, looking ready to back Harry up.

Draco held up his hands in peace. "I'm sorry, Harry, but you'll thank me when you get your drink. I'll pay for it; I promise, so you won't be losing out if you don't like it."

"That's not the point," Harry stated, looking at the blonde directly. Hermione tensed beside him.

Draco stared at Harry.

"It's just a drink, Harry," Draco defended.

"It's my_ choice_," Harry retorted, emphasizing the last word.

The word choice had the intended effect on him as Draco's lips pressed together.

Finally he said, evenly, "I'll go tell the waitress to change it."

Draco slipped out of the booth and walked up to their waitress who was two tables away. Harry watched as they exchanged words, and the waitress snapped at her quill to write something down.

The rest of the table sat awkwardly, all staring anywhere but at Draco as he slipped back in the booth.

Harry felt satisfied as Draco mumbled that she would be bringing the Gillywater.

"Well," Hermione said, being the first to break the silence. "Luna, tell us about your recent trip to the Amazon. Must have been fascinating."

The group jumped on the chance for a stress free topic, and Luna began describing the creatures she had seen during her latest work project.

Draco only made polite responses, sitting slightly stiff by Harry, as Harry's mind raced over his thoughts for the past few days.

_Luna's revealing Draco's compassion towards her in the dungeons. Memories of Draco's trembling wand as he pointed it at Dumbledore. Draco's face as he learned his friend screams were his dying ones in the fiendfyre. Draco's blood all over the bathroom tile as Harry cried out Sectumsempra. Draco telling Harry to not think of him as his father._

The waitress returned, this time with a tray of drinks floating by her, one fairy resting on her ponytail.

She sat down a glass of golden liquid in front of Draco.

"A Goblin's Dream, Draco? Could you get any flashier?" Blaise laughed.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, intrigued as her own drink was set in front of her.

Draco smiled. "Liquefied edible gold mixed with mint leaves and vodka. Metallic but sweet."

"And the most expensive drink on the menu," Blaise supplied, taking his rum.

Harry was the last to get his order, and the waitress set down two drinks instead of one. The first was clear, with bubbles flitting around inside. The second was a thick orange drink with a red ball the size of a gumball in a little bowl beside it.

"What's this?" Harry asked as the waitress left.

"Your Gillywater and a Phoenix Rising," Draco answered tentatively but clearly as he sipped from his glass.

"You don't have to try the one I ordered," he added. "I just gave you the choice to."

Harry looked at Draco, trying to detect any mocking in that comment, but Draco seemed genuine. The others waited for Harry's reaction.

"Appreciate it," Harry simply said, and reached for his Gillywater first.

"So what makes them call it a Phoenix Rising?" Luna asked conversationally.

"Because of this," Draco answered, picking up the red ball. "Allow me to demonstrate?" Draco asked Harry. Harry nodded, knowing he was not promising to drink it.

"The drink is spiced rum and pumpkin juice, but this is what gives it the real punch." Draco said holding up the ball." It's called a fireball, a sphere of solidified Firewhiskey charmed to dissolve upon contact with this specific drink."

The whole table, including Harry, watched as Draco slowly dropped the ball into the glass. It hit the bottom and dissolved into what looked like a tiny red flame. The flame rose higher and higher to the top of the orange liquid until expanding into the shape of a phoenix with its wings extended in flight. The shape stayed there for five second before all the red rose to the top, making a layer over the orange. Luna started clapping and Hermione stared at the charm work in awe.

"Bloody brilliant," Ron mumbled. Harry stared at the glass, fascinated.

"Told you that you would like it," Draco whispered smugly, and Harry rolled his eyes but smiled a little.

When Blaise turned the conversation to stories of impressive charm work they'd all seen, Harry finally set his blasé Gillywater down and took a sip from the other glass. A burst of heat hit his tongue and then dissolved into a clove aftertaste. It was different but good.

"Now my Luna," Blaise said after the conversation had lulled and they were all warmed from their alcohol. "It is time for us to show this lot what real dancing is." Luna smiled, taking his hand as they moved to get out of the booth.

Ron snorted. "Fat chance there, Blaise. I've improved since fourth year. Come on, Mione." Harry watched as his best friends also made moves for the dance floor.

Luna turned as Harry and Draco still sat there.

"Aren't you two coming?" she inquired. Draco looked hesitant but then stood up and bowed to Harry.

"Dance?" he asked, looking up from under his bangs.

"Do I have to?" sighed Harry.

"Harry! Mate! Let's go!" Ron called, pulling Hermione gently.

Draco chuckled. "No, but your friend will bother you all night if you don't."

"Harry!" Hermione called.

Harry gave a half hearted growl. "Oh all right," he said, defeated. "But only because we're here to look like a couple."

"Of course," Draco said, accepting Harry's hand.

Harry let himself be led on the dance floor and awkwardly tried to move his feet in time with the music across from Draco. Harry enviously admitted that Draco was looking a lot more comfortable than he was. His cheeks burned.

"Move your hips, Chosen One," Draco laughed loudly as he stepped back and forth.

"Oh, Merlin," Harry groaned to himself, blushing harder. "Don't call me that," he told Draco defensively, making Draco laugh more.

Ron and Hermione danced there way beside them, laughing and talking. Blaise was farther away, twirling Luna around and around, both smiling.

Just as Harry was getting the hand of it, the music slowed down and more mist filled the floor. A witch's voice stared crooning softly.

Harry and Draco stopped and looked at each other as all the other couples got closer and started swaying to the music.

Harry decided now would be a good time to return to the booth, but Draco caught him and wouldn't let go.

"Ditching a slow song doesn't say loving couple, Harry," Draco whispered in his ear.

"Cause we're not," Harry whispered back with an edge in his voice.

"Come on, Harry. Even you can handle a slow song," Draco teased.

"If you say one more word about my dancing, I'll break your aristocratic nose," Harry whispered fiercely.

Draco stopped grinning and leaned closer, all seriousness. "Guess we'd be even." he said. "I wouldn't blame you if you did."

Harry's memory snapped to the time in sixth year where Draco had stomped on his nose after paralyzing him with a Pertrificus Totalus. He shivered.

"I apologize for that," Draco continued whispering. "I was under a lot of pressure, and, to be fair, we hated each other."

Harry tried to pull his arm away.

Draco held on. "But I don't hate you now, Harry. We've grown up, a lot, and I think we can at least manage a sort of friendship out of all this."

Some tension left Harry's body at these words, and Draco took the opportunity to reposition his hold.

"Harry, I do not want to spend the rest of my life with an enemy," Draco sighed, his minty breath mixing with Harry's hot breath.

_Fire and Ice_, Harry thought. _Complete Opposites, never meant to mix. Yet here we are, forced to exist together._

_Draco in his Manor. Do me one favor and remember I am not my father, Draco said. Snape's memory in Dumbledore's office. "If you don't mind dying, said Snape roughly, "why not let Draco do it?" "That boy's soul is not yet so damaged," said Dumbledore. "I would not have it ripped apart on my account." Narcissa hovering over him in the Forbidden Forest. "Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle? Draco on the back of Harry's broom in the Room of Requirement, clutching to him, screaming. Draco at his father's trial, posture erect but weighed down._

Draco did not want to marry an enemy. Did Harry? No," he thought firmly. Not if he could help it.

He relaxed with his decision and took Draco's hand as he positioned himself for dancing.

Draco looked shocked, eyes wide as Harry began to sway them.

"I know what you did for Luna, when she was in the dungeons. Ollivander, too," Harry said, staring into those familiar silver eyes.

"Harry, I-"

He cut the man off. "I also know that you did not kill Dumbledore when you had the chance, or turn me over to Bellatrix when the Snatchers caught me."

Draco was trying to absorb this as happy couples all around them pressed close together.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"What?" Draco asked.

"Why did you not turn me in? You had everything to gain from it. You hated me, but you told your father you couldn't tell who I was. I almost killed you in that bathroom. Why would you spare me?"

"Because there would have been no hope," Draco answered before he could stop himself.

"What hope?" Harry pressed.

Draco frowned, eyebrows knitting. He shook his head, but Harry waited patiently. Finally...

"Of escaping him," Draco whispered.

Harry appeared to drink this answer in and mull it over.

"You are not who I thought you were," Harry said, blatant.

Draco looked thoughtful.

"You aren't either," he returned.

They swayed as the music bled into another slow melody. An unspoken truce was being set between them, somewhere between fire and ice.


	10. Chapter 10

_The lovely J. K. Rowling owns all of HPverse. Things are progressing. Thanks for reading!_

Draco left the dance floor with Harry to return to their booth facing their friends. They both nursed their new drinks, Draco contemplating how their relationship had just changed. He watched Harry stare as Blaise and Luna attempted the Hippogriff shuffle, which seemed to consist of a lot of bowing.

"I like Blaise and all, but I never would have dreamed of those two getting together," Harry mused, crossing his leg over his knee

Draco raised his blonde eyebrow.

"Why not?" Draco asked. "They're both purebloods. There wasn't a controversy in status."

"Oh, yes, because blood status is everything," Harry said, making sure Draco saw his eyes roll.

"I was only speaking about marriage traditions this time," Draco assured him.

Harry just shook his head before continuing.

"But that aside," Harry said, gesturing with his drink at the dancing pair. "Luna is, well, Luna. She's got strange ideas and makes conversations awkward with her honesty, sometimes, but she's always been friendly. Blaise always seemed to care too much about his reflection to talk to anyone at school."

Draco smirked.

"Yes, Blaise is vain, but then, so are all Slytherins, myself included." His eyes flashed wickedly.

"Anyways, school doesn't count. His family did not want him getting close to anyone with their loyalties so on the fence. And he and Luna are more a like than you think."

"Really?" Harry asked, clearly having thought opposites attracted in their case.

Draco picked a piece of fuzz off his button down.

"Well, alright," Draco admitted. "Blaise does not comment on various creatures unknown to the rest of us, but think about it. Those two were pretty much loners through most of school, happy to be left by themselves. Thank_ Merlin_ Blaise found her as I think she is one of the few people who can give him enough space. He never could stand the way Pansy fawned over guys, or any other girls like her. Blaise is a separate person, and so is Luna. He can take trips for Magical Cooperation while Luna goes on safari or helps her father with his magazine. They don't cling to each other. Also, he needs someone intelligent to talk to, and that's an easy enough find in a Ravenclaw."

Draco could tell Harry was considering his words as the boy had always kept his emotions on his face. The brunette sipped his drink, slightly frowning in thought.

"Of course," he continued. "Blaise would never admit this, but I think he finds Luna's bluntness refreshing. After having to play politics and watch his back for seven years with the snake pit and then do it all again at his job, he's probably glad to just let his guard down."

Draco looked away from Harry, closing his eyes to listen to the hum of bodies moving and the steady music. He relished the taste of vodka coating his tongue as he took a drink. After a minute or two he could feel Harry's eyes on him now, but he kept his closed.

"And what about us? What kind of match are we?" Harry questioned, genuine interest ringing through his words.

Draco sighed. _I've been wondering that myself_, he thought.

"We, Harry," Draco began slowly. "Are victims of circumstance," he paused, and then added, "and I'm not just talking about this marriage thing. We have both been pushed all our lives to act in situations we did not want to act in by others with power. We have struggled to survive—albeit in different ways-but survive all the same."

He could feel Harry moving a bit closer on the seat next to him.

"You've been so calm about all of this," Harry said in what would have been accusing if it had not been so softly spoken. "How can you do that? Aren't you mad at your mum even the least bit?"

"Yes, I am mad, but I know that my mother is doing her best to protect me, even if I do not like it. But like I said, we've been groomed to survive. This is just another situation to make the best of. My letting myself become angry does not help the situation in any way."

"But don't you want to marry someone you love?" Harry asked, disbelieving.

"Love?" Draco laughed, not unkindly, opening his eyes at the word. "Gryffindors may be able to hope for such things, but this Slytherin thinks of a thing like that to be a luxury. Many pureblooded marriages_ are_ still arranged, Harry."

Draco amended his statement, "Though I did hope for feelings to develop after some time. After all, it worked for my parents."

"But how can a marriage be real if you don't even like the person like that?" Harry demanded, his glasses slipping down his nose a little.

"Marriage is a contract," Draco drawled as Harry pushed them back. "Love is just the extra."

"Well, that's not the way I see it," Harry stated firmly, setting his glass down on the table.

Draco turned his head to Harry, resting the back of it on the top of the booth seat.

"Harry, I am sorry that I am not your ideal partner," he said, meaning it. "But if it's any consolation, know that I have developed a respect for you. You may have been a prat, but you saved my life and the rest of the wizarding world. My respect is not earned easily, but you've more than qualified."

Harry's emerald eyes widened in surprise.

"And," Draco continued hurriedly, not giving Harry any time to respond, just as Harry had done to him earlier. "There are ways to make this marriage tolerable. A couple of months after the ceremony, we don't have to even live in the same household, as we are both the last heirs to family estates. We'll only have to make public appearances every now and then, and well, there is the whole fidelity issue, but that cannot be helped. There is nothing in the contract that ever said you have to love me or even like me."

A brief silence fell between them. Harry chewed on his bottom lip, face looking thoughtful.

"So we'll be like acquaintances, just married," Harry said slowly.'

"Yes," Draco said, wanting to lighten the mood after this whole conversation. Humor had always been his best defense mechanism, his therapist had said.

Clearing his throat, Draco circled the rim of his glass with his finger, and said in his most serious voice, "And just think, you'll be married to the hottest wizard in Britain.

Harry snickered loudly at this sudden declaration, rolling his eyes. "Dream on, blondie."

Draco smiled at Harry, innocent mischief written all over his features. "Deny it all you want to. Every man wants this blonde arse."

Harry groaned, covering his forehead dramatically. "_Stop talking_! I think I'm going to be sick!"

Draco pulled a wounded look before letting himself laugh, relieved to know that they were at least going to try to be civil through this now. A flash of light caught Draco's attention at the corner of his eye just as Harry grinned into his drink, muttering something about delusions of grandeur. _Odd_, Draco thought distractedly_, that light did not look like the other fairies..._

* * *

><p>The next day Narcissa drank her morning tea with her porridge and bacon, smiling at the newly delivered Daily Prophet sitting next to last week's edition.<p>

"Chosen One Finds the One?" was the first headline over a picture of Draco and Harry holding hands and nodding politely at the reporters. Today's edition read "Potter and Malfoy Dance the Night Away." Apparently a reporter had snuck a camera to a clubgoer to get past The Newt's Eye's boundary spell. One picture was taken at a distance, where her son and Harry Potter were swaying and talking closely. The other picture was of them sitting in a circular booth, laughing together, clearly unaware of anyone watching.

"Will Master Draco be wanting breakfast?" she heard Dolly ask as Draco strolled past the dining room doors.

"No time. Negotiations about the shop," Draco called as he headed to an apparation spot. "Good morning, Mother. Love you."

Narcissa's smile widened. "I love you," she answered, staring down at her son's carefree face in black and white.


	11. Chapter 11

_The lovely J. K. Rowling owns all HPverse. Thanks for reading!_

Harry woke up two early on Sunday morning, wanting to get a good breakfast in before quidditch practice. The week long vacation for the players was over.

He swung his legs over his bed and trudged to the bathroom across the hall, never having moved into the Ms. Black's old master suite. That room gave him the willies. In fact, he'd turned that whole part of the house over to Kreacher, leaving that wing as it was while the rest of the house, with the exception of Sirius's room, had been redone: cherry woods and neutral paints over the dark wallpaper. He washed his face in the basin sink and brushed his teeth before heading back into his bedroom. He threw on a pair of jeans he'd left crumpled on the floor for three days and a clean gray t-shirt and slipped into his trainers. He grabbed his practice duffle and carried it downstairs only drop it heavily on the landing as he walked into the kitchen. Kreacher was already up, clanking around when Harry sat at the little breakfast nook.

"Morning, Kreacher," Harry said, clearing his throat.

"French toast almost done, Master Harry," Kreacher answered, muttering happily to himself.

At first Kreacher had been unhappy about the changes Harry wanted to make to Grimmuald Place, what with new wizarding laws requiring proper uniforms (Harry had had to show the official Ministry letter to the elf five times before the Kreacher believed that Harry was not giving him clothes but the Ministry, so therefore he was not being forced into freedom.) and the redecorating. But Harry had promised that no family heirloom would be taken out of the house, and in fact, Kreacher was allowed to keep it all stored in his new wing of the house, Since then Kreacher had been getting his better mood back, better mood for Kreacher anyway. Hermione had even finally figured out how to take Ms. Black's portrait down, after many scream and insults echoed throughout the house, and Kreacher had promptly took to his quarters where Harry was sure he cuddled up to it every night.

The elf sat a plate in front of Harry piled high with French toast dripping in powdered sugar, jam, and syrup with fresh strawberries on the side and a hot cup of tea. Harry looked at it lovingly as it was the most beautiful sight he'd seen that day.

"Thanks, Kreacher," he said sincerely, and began forking off chunks into his eager mouth.

Kreacher only muttered about polishing and dusting later, and Harry enjoyed eating. He was taking his last few bites, drowning them in the sticky pools left behind, when he heard his name coming from the fire place.

"Harry! Er, Harry? You there? I tried your room but it was empty." Harry stood and walked over to the grate where Percy Weasley's head was hovering in the flames, his red hair blending into the fire.

"Oh there you are," Percy said, relieved when Harry was in view. "Morning, Harry!"

"Morning, Perc," Harry greeted. "What can I do for you?"

"Oh, just wanted to catch you before you left. I've got a draft of the marriage contract drawn for your side, just need to go over some things. Would you mind stopping by the house after dinner at Mum's? I'm staying home with Penelope tonight; she's having terrible back pains."

Harry looked a little worried.

"Nothing serious though. Just a big baby," Percy amended, catching the look.

"Oh, yeah, of course," Harry said. "I'll pop in right after I leave."

"Great!" Percy said, grinning as the wood crackled. "Oh, Penelope's calling me. Good luck in practice today, Harry. Goodbye!"

"Bye," Harry returned, and the fire call ended, leaving his fireplace back to normal.

Harry apparated to the Arrow's quidditch stadium a little later, walking into the office side where the receptionist greeted him.

"Hello, Moira," Harry greeted.

"Hello, Harry," the brunette girl returned cheerfully. She stopped him from making his way to the locker room. "Oh, Harry! I've got your guest tickets right here."

Harry turned and took the envelope she was holding. "Thanks!" he said, about to turn away again.

"And I added an extra for your boyfriend, too," she said, all smiles.

Harry's eyes darted to the magazine she was reading on the desk. A big picture of Draco and Harry dancing at The Newt's Eye was taking up most of the article space.

The black haired man inwardly sighed and forced out a reply. "Er, thanks."

"No problem," she said, winking at him. "He's a cutie."

Harry's cheeks reddened as he tried to quickly get to the hallway leading to the locker rooms. He's your boyfriend, now, Harry, fake boyfriend or not, the man repeated to himself. She meant it as a compliment.

Harry was certain Draco would have had a merry little laugh at Moira's comment.

As soon as he entered the player's locker room, he was greeted by cat calls and whistles.

"Eh, Potter! Why didn't you tell us you had a new bloke!" his teammate Adrian crowed.

"And such a good looking and rich one at that!" Tommy, the other beater, piped in, bringing a chorus of laughs.

_Bloody hell_, Harry groaned to himself.

Harry's face turned as red as all the Weasley's hair. He quickly tried to cover it up by pulling on his robes over his head.

"Read where he said he was gonna give us all free spa treatments. Hang on to that one, there Harry. I like him." Edgar said after Harry's head reappeared, clapping Harry on the back before putting on his Keeper helmet.

Harry just shook his head, trying to appear good natured about all the taunts. Harry should have prepared himself for his teammate's ribbings. He knew they'd read the papers, and they always teased when someone had a new love interest. Draco was no exception. He prayed to Merlin that a bludger would knock him out right then so he wouldn't have to talk about it. Tommy was the type of mate who liked to hear details about the bedroom, and Harry just could not keep the mortification off his face if it came to that conversation.

Luckily Harry was soon saved by a familiar barking voice.

"All right ladies," Janice Leavy shouted, strolling into the men's locker room. She was the only girl on the team, and she was a chaser and a captain.

Harry breathed in relief at her appearance.

"Oi, Janice! Some of us are changing, here!" Adrian cried.

"I'm sure I wouldn't be impressed, Henderson," she retorted without hesitation to which the rest of the team guffawed.

Adrian blushed and gripped his robes tighter, but said nothing.

"Enough, enough," she said, quieting them. "Vacation is officially over. It's back on the broom, boys, and I better not see this free week having turned you into a bunch of lazy, half-arse flying pansies."

Harry grinned at his captain. He wished he could set Janice and Oliver Wood up. If they didn't immediately break into a fight about favorite teams and the best moves, they'd be a perfect match.

"First game with Norway is on Sunday. We got a week to practice our newest defense maneuver, the Hurtling Duo. If we want a shot at the European cup, then we've got to go all out. I want all of you on pre-game diets."-a collective groan filled the room, and Harry already thought longingly of his breakfast this morning-"Take the tactic book home and study it. Practices aren't over until we've nailed everything to perfection. And get plenty of rest. No late nighters! Including you, Potter. No going out dancing with your new boyfriend."

Everyone laughed again. Potter spluttered, the grin falling right off his face.

"Okay, team. Get out there and prove to me your Appleby Arrows!"

The whole team yelled the chant, "Arrows straight and true!" before pulling on robes and leaving for the pitch. Harry's chanting wasn't as jubilant as everyone else's. He grabbed his broom and followed suit.

"Oi, Potter." Janice said, throwing an arm around Harry's shoulders. "Don't be sore. I was just taking the Mickey out of ya."

Harry mustered a small smile.

"Truth be told," she said. "He's quite fit." She slapped Harry on the back and left him speechless as they stepped onto the pitch.

She spread her arms out before her to the sunny open sky.

"Ah," she said, ignorant of Harry's horrified expression. "It's a great day for Quidditch."

* * *

><p>"Well, gentleman. It has been a pleasure," Draco said to his two business men, shaking their hands. "Dragon Tamer is ready for bigger and better territory."<p>

The two men congratulated Draco once more on his official permit to open shop and took off down the street. Draco smiled at the newly signed parchment giving him legal rights to sell his products on Diagon Alley and then at the empty but soon to be filled shop front before him.

_Must owl Pucey as soon as I get home_, Draco thought to himself. _So many details still need attending._

"Draco!" A voice interrupted the blonde's planning. He looked up to see Blaise strolling towards him.

"Ah, Blaise!" Draco returned. "Best of news today I hope."

"Not bad, but it seems you're the one with news," the taller man said, smiling broadly.

"It's official," Draco beamed, showing the parchment to his old school mate. "The shop opens in two weeks."

"Fantastic!" Blaise cried, taking Draco's hand and shaking it. "Listen, I'm just here to grab some lunch. Luna's visiting her father. Want to join? My treat. We'll celebrate."

The two friends walked, talking idly, to a tiny little restaurant they visited often.

"Luna sends her thanks for the nail potions. Now she won't come back with ink stained hands from the printing press," Blaise said warmly as they ordered their sandwiches and soups.

Draco nodded. "She is, of course, always welcome," he replied.

They chit chatted about the latest pieces of gossip Blaise's mother had shared with him before their lunch arrived and both were silent for a moment as they dug in.

"I received a letter," Blaise said, trying for nonchalance, eyeing Draco cautiously. "From Gregory."

A vision of the last time Draco seen his friend loomed in the blonde's mind: Vincent's memorial service; he pushed it away, his face remaining passive.

"Oh? And how is he doing?" He sipped his potato soup demurely.

"He's well. Staying with his aunt in Germany right now."

A relief tugged at him, and Draco neutralized his expression so Blaise could not see any soft emotion.

"Good for him," Draco said and went on with his soup.

Blaise continued his careful topic approach. "He read about you and, uh, Harry. He offers his congratulations."

Draco put down his spoon with just a hint of force and began nibbling his sandwich. _He would not get upset. He would not discuss this again._

"Draco, Blaise began."I think he'd-"

"We're not talking about this, Blaise," Draco said suddenly, lowering his sandwich, his jaw set. He could hear Ms. Conner, his therapist telling his seventeen year old self that it was not good to block out feelings. _Sorry, Ms. Conner_, he thought. _But to hell with that._

"He barely even sees his fath-"

"Blaise, we are changing the subject," Draco added warning to his tone, looking Blaise in the eye. Blaise knew he was skirting the line.

The taller man's shoulders drooped before he pushed them straight again.

"Alright," Blaise admitted defeat for not the first time. He picked up his rueben and began eating. Draco, feeling certain the subject had been dropped, started eating again, too.

"So how are you and Harry?" Blaise sighed, going back to friendly chatter.

Draco's posture relaxed. They could discuss that.

"We've called a truce," he replied. "Even managed some jokes." Blaise smiled a little across from him.

"Lovely," Blaise commented. "I thought he was going to pour that drink straight in your lap when you ordered it for him. Gryffindors are very prideful."

"Yes, well," Draco laughed. "I _was_ right about the drink, you know."

Blaise shook his head playfully at his friend. "Is Harry coming to your grand shop opening then?"

Draco paused. It would be strange if his intended was not present. He'd have to ask Harry about it later, perhaps owl him. He hoped Harry would agree.

"Yes," Draco answered, drinking his ice water. "I guess he should be, shouldn't he?"

Hello, Master Draco, sir," Dolly called, curtsying as Draco entered the manor. "Your new suit was delivered today, sir. And the ingredients you ordered."

"Thank you, Dolly," Draco told the elf, giving her a brief smile. "I will see to them in a moment."

He left her to find his mother, in the garden no doubt, where she would surely be lounging on such a nice day. He kissed her cheek in greeting upon spotting her and sat across from her in the garden chairs.

"Oh, hello, darling," Narcissa greeted him, putting down a fiction piece. What did you get up to today?"

"The shop is official," Draco beamed proudly. "Everything is signed."

"Wonderful!" she said, sitting up and placing a hand on his wrist. "You've worked very hard for this. The family is proud."

"Thank you, Mother." Draco said, bowing his head to her.

"Oh," she said suddenly. "This just arrived for you. From Mister Potter." She wrapped her sari around her while settling back into the cushions and handed Draco an envelope with his name written in untidy scrawl.

He slit it open neatly and found a single quidditch ticket inside for the Sunday match and a note that simply said: "For you.-Harry." Draco smirked at the brevity of the message. He did not expect sentimentalities from the man, that was for certain.

"Oh, you're going to see him play. How nice," his mother said, looking at the ticket in Draco's hand.

"Yes, I suppose I will. I always love a good game," Draco responded, slipping the ticket back in the envelope.

Narcissa's mouth twisted into a wicked smile. "I trust all is going well between you two. Mister Potter seems cordial enough from what _the papers_ say."

Draco eyed his mother, seeing the teasing gleam in her eye. "We are civil, doing our best to be publicly united," he answered slowly. "No bad press, I hope?"

His mother shook her long blonde hair.

"No, no," she assured, and then added, "There's a wonderful photo of you to at that dance club the other night."

"Yes," Draco sighed, leaning back, remembering the light he could not place. "I thought I saw a camera flash. Glad we are convincing as a couple."

"Well, perhaps this marriage can be tolerable for you both, since you've reached a civil agreement."

Draco gave a small smile to his mother. "Perhaps."

"Let's hope so," she said, eyebrows lifting as she caught his eye. "I'm seeing about drafting the contract for your side of the marriage tomorrow."


	12. Chapter 12

_The lovely J. K. Rowling owns all HPverse. Taking cheap shots when I can. Thanks for reading!_

Harry reached Grimmauld place just past ten that night, having apparated from Percy's after taking a couple of hours to go over the details of the marriage contract. He pulled himself up the stairs and stepped his shoes off with each heel as soon as he crossed the threshold of his bedroom. Practice had been long and exhausting, and dinner, though restricted somewhat by Janice's enforced diet, had been more than satisfying as it always was at the Burrow. Sore, _still_ full and now exhausted mentally from the meeting with Percy, Harry wanted to just collapse into bed. He yanked his shirt off while spelling out the light, slipped out of his jeans and socks, and slid under the cool sheets.

He sighed contently and placed his folded glasses on the nightstand. Harry had spoken with Hermione and Ron after dinner, needing to vent out the embarrassment he'd endured from his team members congratulating him on landing such a looker.

Ron had been the sympathetic party all the way, sharing Harry's horror. It had been Hermione that had shocked them by saying, "But Harry, he is good looking. What did you expect?"

Ron had nearly hit the roof, looking highly affronted and mouthing wordlessly at his wife.

"Not that I find him the least bit attractive, dear," she had quickly added.

"I can't believe you can say that, Mione!" Harry protested. "It's Draco!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Harry, you're gay, surely you understand what I mean. I may not have liked him, but girls at our school were always whispering about how gorgeous he was. I mean, you have to admit, he's got rather nice"-Hermione glanced cautiously at her husband-"er, hair."

"Hair!" Ron choked, his hand reaching slowly up to his own cropped ginger hair.

Harry clapped Ron on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, mate. Blondes aren't her type."

Ron looked at him thankfully, and put his hand down. Hermione took hold of his hand and rubbed it reassuringly.

"That's right, sweetie," she said in her sincerest voice before turning back to Harry.

"Look at him objectively, Harry. If you had not known him all your life, if you two hadn't had such a bad history, would you not think he's cute?" Hermione pressed, trying to ignore Ron's reignited glare.

Her words echoed through Harry as he lay in bed, not yet drifted off. He tried to do what she suggested and criticize Draco at face value. The man was tall, taller than Harry, which was Harry's preference. He wasn't muscular like Harry liked though but lean. He wasn't as tan as Harry, who spent a lot of time outdoors, but he wasn't pasty, either. Harry focused on the man's face. Pointed but a strong jaw line. Perfectly straight nose. Light eyes and a thin mouth that was tolerable when it wasn't sneering at you. His hair was thick and gleaming, a fierce blonde that was always styled just so, Harry thought with a bit of envy. All in all, Draco was a bad looking bloke, if Harry just passed him on the street. _Still thought_, Harry thought fiercely. _He's Draco, and there was just no room for objectivity about that._

Harry turned on his stomach, legs sprawling_. Well, he's got nice hair, anyway_, Harry gave him grudgingly, before emptying his mind and falling quickly to sleep.

* * *

><p>Draco sat in the guests' box on the next Sunday afternoon, a very coveted place for Arrows' fans, waiting for the game to start. He and Harry had had minimal contact by owl throughout the week, as they were both very busy with their separate occupations. They would see each other after the game. The former Granger and Weasley were behind him, having given him a polite "Hello" and "How are you" before they started conversing privately. Every now and then, he'd hear Granger laugh. Draco was not bothered by this exclusion. They were Harry's friends, not his.<p>

Everyone was murmuring excitedly amongst themselves, and Draco reveled in the feeling of anticipation before a game. His father had taken him to many professional quidditch matches, and Draco's enjoyment had never wavered.

An older woman and a small boy with pale blue and silver hair spiked all over his head moved down the aisle and sat beside him. Draco smiled as he looked at the boy beside him. The lad was clearly a big fan.

To his surprise, Granger and Weasley greeted the woman and boy warmly, and then Draco realized they were sitting in Harry's reserved area. He also then noticed that many seats were still left open.

"Oh," he heard the woman say. "Where is the rest of the family today?"

"Couldn't make it," Weasley answered. "Percy is swamped with work, and George and Ginny have inventory at the shop. Mum and Dad are on holiday visiting Charlie."

"Oh, how is Charlie? The woman asked. "Heard he got a bad burn from a Peruvian Vipertooth..."

Draco stopped listening, and instead watched the boy beside him fiddling with his Omnioculars.

He saw the boy begin to glance at him, too, almost studying him, and Draco chuckled to himself. Then he gasped in shock and stared openly as the little boy screwed up his eyes as if in concentration, and slowly his hair began to change, shortening and fading from two toned to the familiar pale blonde of Draco's hair.

"_Merlin_," he whispered as the boy opened his eyes and grinned at the man.

The woman leaned over, smiling. "That means he likes you," she told him. "My grandson is an metamorphmagus."

Draco recovered, remembering studying metamorphmagi in a lecture section on special wizarding attributes. "Ah," Draco replied. "How..."-he searched for words and finished with-"charming."

"I'm Teddy!" the little boy announced, sticking out his little four year old hand.

Draco raised an eyebrow and smiled at the child, giving the hand a tiny shake. "Hello, Teddy. My name is Draco. Are you ready to see the match?"

"Yes!" the boy cried happily. "My Uncle Hawwy is the seekey!"

"Uncle?" Draco asked, confused, and then realization hit him. "You're his godson. Theodore Lupin."

The boy made a face at his name. "Don't call me Theodowe," he said sharply.

The woman laughed at this insistence, and Draco apologized to the offended looking child, "Excuse me. _Teddy_ Lupin."

His eyes then snapped to the woman. "Then you're...my mother's sister."

The woman still smiled, but her eyes lost their sparkle. "Uh, yes. I am Andromeda Tonks. Your aunt, technically."

Draco's mother had told him about his other aunt, the one who was shamed from the family for marrying a muggle-born. He knew that Mother kept a picture of her and her sisters in her nightstand, and he once had caught her sitting in her bedroom with her back to him, crying. They had never discussed it afterwards.

_Well_, he thought. _Now was a time for introduction as any other._

He held out his hand formally, and Andromeda's eyes widened as she placed her hand in his.

"Wonderful to meet you," Draco said seriously. "Draco Malfoy."

He noticed Granger and Weasley were watching this all with surprise, and everyone slightly jumped as the announcer's voice boomed through the stadium.

"Yay!" Teddy yelled, holding up his onmiculars.

"Tell your mother I said hello," Andromeda said softly and released his hand. They all faced the game.

_"AND NOW LET'S HERE IT FOR OUR HOME TEAM. THE APPLEBY ARROWS!"_

The Arrows' side erupted into cheers and screams as silver and blue clad figures flew up into view, lapping the field.

_"THE LINEUP IS: CHASERS-LEAVY AS CAPTAIN, CHEN, MORETTI, BEATERS-HENDERSON, GALLAGHER, KEEPER-REED, AND SEEKER—POTTER!"_

Teddy clapped loudly at the sound of his god father's name and searched for him in his Omnioculars as the announcer listed off the line up for the Karasjok Kites.

The two teams spaced themselves appropriately in the air. Draco watched as the referee released the balls, and the game started in a swirl of silver and blue and yellow and white. The Arrrows' chasers immediately went into a Woollongong Shimmy.

The game was intense, each team scoring one right after the other while Keepers flung themselves to and fro trying to shield the goals. Draco spotted the player that must be Harry zooming around away from the action, looking for the tiny snitch for the next thirty minutes. It was obvious that if the team stayed neck in neck the only way to win was to catch the golden ball. Norway's seeker was searching, too. The bludgers were fierce, many players getting knocked around as they tried to duck out of the way of the beaters. Just as one of the chasers did a Sloth Grip Roll, Draco sharply inhaled with the rest of the crowd as the two seekers began zipping around the pitch, in what surely had to be a race for the snitch. The announcer was commenting at lightning speed.

"_BORSETH IN THE LEAD, WAIT NO POTTER, BORSETH AGAIN, OH BOTH ARE REACHING OUT, POTTER EVEN, SO CLOSE, BORSETHNONOIT'SPOTTER! POTTERS GOT THE SNITCH! GAME OVER! APPLEBY ARROWS WIN, 230 TO 70!"_

The English side was in an uproar. Weasley had stood up and was shouting his head off. Granger was whistling, and Teddy was jumping up and down in his seat, his hair turning a bright magenta in his excitement. Draco clapped appropriately. The Arrows did a victory lap around the pitch with Harry holding up the snitch. The captain did a loop in the air. As they were lining up to shake hands with the other team, an event staff personnel approached where Draco was sitting.

"Excuse, me. Would the guests like to come down to the pitch to congratulate the team?" she asked.

"Hell yes!" Ron swore in answer as Draco nodded, and Harry's section along with the other members' guests all followed down the stairs to the open field. Teddy walked beside Draco, happily jumping up and down and chatting him up about all the moves in the game he was rewinding over and over on his Omnioculars. Draco listened amusedly while glancing back every now and then at Andromeda, who was watching them quietly.

They reached the field where all the Arrows were hugging and shouting in triumph. Teddy took off running to Harry who snatched him up and held him high, grinning like mad and flushed from flying.

"Hey, there!" Draco heard him say. "Enjoy the game?"

"It was incwedible!" Teddy gushed. "You flew so fast!"

Harry hugged him tightly and was then accosted by Weasley and Granger. Reporters were filing in, snapping pictures crazily of the celebration. Harry broke away from the hugs and turned to Draco standing there to give congratulations. He held onto Teddy and the two men looked at each other, not sure what to do for a moment.

Draco gave him a smirk and strolled up to him.

"Still the glory hound," he teased the brunette, not able to resist.

Harry smiled wickedly as Teddy tugged on Harry's robes. "Always kicked your arse in school," he said, leaning away so Teddy wouldn't hear him swear.

Draco rolled his eyes, but instead of retorting, merely said, "Congratulations, Scarhead." Teddy was wiggling out of Harry's grasp when a reporter ran up to them.

"Oi, there! How bout the lovebirds share a victory kiss. For the front page," the reporter ordered, getting his camera ready as Teddy made it to the ground and ran off to his grandmother.

The two stared at him, clearly taken aback, before Harry's face became angry. Draco thought he was going to tell the reporter to bugger off but then a teammate came up behind Harry and put his arm around him.

"Yeah, Potter. Just a harmless kiss. You earned it," the brown haired man Draco recognized as a beater encouraged.

Harry looked like he wanted to hex his teammate, but Draco noticed that everyone else was turning to look at them as reporters hurried over to capture a moment between "the new couple."

_Wonderful_, Draco spat in his head. The beater let him go to get out of the frame as another reporter cried, "Well then, we haven't got all day."

Draco could see Harry's Adam's apple bob as he gulped and turned to Draco. They were trapped. Too many people were looking, they'd have to kiss. It would seem odd if they caused a fuss about doing something so simple. Draco steeled himself and made a minute nod to give Harry his permission.

_Our first kiss. How romantic_, Draco thought sarcastically. Harry seemed to realize the lack of escape as well and slowly put a hesitant hand on Draco's shoulder. Draco's grey eyes stared into Harry's deep green ones as Harry leaned in, barely hiding his grimace. _If you puke in my mouth, Harry_, Draco swore in his head_. I will kill you horribly in front of all these people._

Draco's eyes dropped to Harry's mouth as the brunette unconsciously wetted them with his tongue, and then there lips brushed together, and Harry was kissing him firmly and Draco kissed resolutely back. It was warm and foreign and quite chaste as they held it long enough for the cameras to flash, Draco putting his hand on Harry's arm to appear to be pulling him closer, for good measure. Then they parted to cheers and claps from everyone.

The sandy blonde beater had been joined by his other teammate, and they were whooping loudly, "Atta boy, Harry!"

Harry was looking at Draco as if he'd went into shock, not quite ready to face the cameras, as Draco carefully slid an arm around him for the rest of the photos. "Harry," Draco whispered in his ear after clearing his throat. "Smile, please."

Harry seemed to snap back and force a thin smile on his face as he waved politely to the reporters. Draco could see Weasley and Granger at the edge of the frenzy, Granger looking as blank as Harry had and Weasley looking positively green.

"Nana!" he heard Teddy exclaim. "That man is Hawwy's boyfwiend!" Andromeda was trying to hush him.

The two beaters came to clap them on the back and pose, too.

"Victory party at my house tonight," the one with Henderson emblazoned on the back of his robes said to Harry, pausing to give a grin to a reporter. "Just cleared it with Janice as long as we all make it to practice on time tomorrow. And, of course," he continued, looking at Draco. "Your gorgeous boyfriend is welcome, as well."

Draco broke into a smile at the invitation. _Gorgeous? Bet Harry eats that up_, he chuckled to himself evilly. _Well, can't blame them, really._

"We'd love to," Draco answered, pulling Harry closer. "But it's up to Harry, of course. What do you say, _darling_?"

Harry snapped his head up at the term of endearment Draco had said so sickly sweet. His eyes shot daggers, but his pleasant expression remained intact.

"Sure thing," Harry finally answered loudly, and then added with a smirk, "_Sweetheart_."

"Great!" The beater with the last name Gallagher said, turning away from the reporters finally.

"Tommy," he introduced himself to Draco. Draco took his extended hand and pumped it twice.

"Draco Malfoy," he returned. Harry just stood there, gritting his teeth to stay in that smile.

"And I'm Adrian," the other broke in, taking his hand.

"Pleasure," Draco answered.

"Guys!" the captain called. "Team picture. Now!"

"That's us," Adrian grinned, and he and Tommy pulled Harry along with him where the reporters had migrated. "Don't worry," he winked at Draco. "We'll return him."

Harry's face was a deep red as he walked quickly to the group photo.

"Looking forward to seeing you tonight," Tommy called over his shoulder as he jogged to catch back up with Harry.


	13. Chapter 13

_The lovely J. K. Rowling owns all HPverse. I appreciate the reviews! Thanks for reading!_

Draco stood off to the side of the party's commotion, nibbling on some cucumber sandwiches with which a house elf had supplied him. Every time he emptied the plate, a new pile of sandwiches appeared. The party food of chicken legs, crisps, and pumpkin pasties had all seemed rather unappetizing, especially the chicken legs, so Draco was thankful for his private little stock. The new Weird Sisters album was playing in the background, and some couples were dancing. Harry had went to grab some cold drinks for them, but had yet to break away from the many people wanting to congratulate him. The blonde had been introduced to all the Arrows' members as each one made their rounds to the guests, Tommy and Adrian having shared some stories about the pranks they'd pulled on Harry during his rookie year, such as filling his practice robes with Insufferable Itching powder. Those two were harmless flirts, and Edgar Reed the keeper and Xi Chen, a chaser, had both been polite but friendly, thanking him when he offered to send the team free samples of his latest Hair Freeze product. Janice had made her way over, immediately questioning him on his team loyalties and who he'd supported for the last World Cup. She was aggressive but nice. Antony Moretti had been too busy with an incredibly well endowed girl in his lap for most of the night to introduce himself.

Harry finally made his way back to him, drink in hand, looking a little overwhelmed from talking to so many people.

"Want some air?" Draco asked knowingly.

"Yeah," Harry agreed hesitantly. "That would be good."

The pair moved to climb the stairs that led to the balcony, and Draco caught Tommy giving Harry thumbs up as they left the eyes of the party.

"Blimey," Harry muttered as they stepped onto the silent balcony and a breeze ruffled their hair. "Feels good to be out here."

"You're very popular down there," Draco commented amusedly. Harry blushed and shrugged.

"Yeah, well, comes with the territory," he said lamely.

"So," Draco said while leaning on the wrought iron banister, his tone all innocence. "Surprised I didn't turn into a frog when you kissed me?"

Harry stared at him in disbelief. "That's a muggle story. How'd you kno-?

"I had a tutor before coming to Hogwarts that taught me a section on muggle's views on magic through the history and myths related. I found the story rather funny. Clearly the prince was an animagus."

Harry chuckled, resting his elbows on the banister beside Draco.

"You didn't answer my question," Draco reminded him.

"I survived it," Harry smiled. "Barely," he added teasingly after a pause, pulling a disgusted face for good measure.

If Draco had been five, he would have stuck out his tongue, but he wasn't so he settled for sneering instead.

"Wasn't a picnic for me, either," he said. "Like a dead fish."

"Oi!" Harry said, giving a light punch in the arm.

"Okay, okay. A _live_ fish, then," Draco added, and both laughed.

Draco took a swig from his bottle Harry had given him and set it down on the ground beside him, careful not to knock it over. He turned around to face the night, and both were silent, contemplating the sky for a moment.

"Tell me when you first knew you were gay," Harry said suddenly, taking a drink from his own bottle.

Draco raised his blonde eyebrows, studying Harry's face in the dim light for some teasing, but all he saw was sincere curiosity.

"Fourth year," he answered. "Though I had a hunch before then."

"What happened fourth year?" Harry asked, resting his head on his forearms.

Draco smiled. "Durmstrang."

"Beg pardon?" Harry said, eyebrows becoming crinkled together.

"My first real crush was from Durmstrang. His name was Phillip. He was a year younger than me and had the most gorgeous mouth I've ever seen. We only got to kiss once before he left Hogwarts."

Harry looked contemplative.

"Did you keep in touch afterwards?" he asked.

Draco waved his hand dismissively. "A few letters back and forth. He soon hooked up with his best friend upon returning."

Harry lifted his head.

"I imagine it would be difficult, going to an all boys' school. Hormones and all" he said sympathetically.

"Sounded like heaven to me," Draco grinned impishly. "I begged Mother to let me transfer, but she and father wanted me to go where they had. Family tradition and all."

"And you?" he asked, turning so that his body was facing the brunette. "How did you know?"

Harry screwed his mouth to the side, thinking on his answer. "I think I was subconsciously in denial for a while. But not too long after Ginny and I had been together. Something didn't connect, you know, _physically_, and I caught myself looking at my first team captain a lot. Though that never amounted to anything more than a crush. He was traded to the Kenmare Kestrels, after a season."

Draco nodded, letting his gaze sweep the ground and back towards the balcony door.

"What do you think we would have done," Harry asked with a shake of his head. "If someone would have told us sixth year you and I would be getting married?"

"Me?" Draco replied. "I would have punched whoever it was in his fat git face."

"Would have thought they were completely off balance," Harry muttered.

Draco bit the inside of his lip.

"You know, Harry," he said, looking down at his nails to appear to be inspecting for invisible dirt. "We'll have to pick a date soon. For the wedding. We've only got three more outings before the next ritual, if you count this party."

Harry nodded solemnly.

"What's our next date?" he asked.

"Well," Draco answered slowly. "The shop's grand opening is next week. I would appreciate it if you came to that. Though I don't think supporting each other's careers actually counts."

The blonde frowned at that realization.

"Yeah, I'll come," Harry said. "Even if it doesn't count. The quidditch match doesn't count either."

"Oh," the brunette said snapping his fingers. "There's the charity banquet for the Crucioed victims at St. Mungos the next week. You, of course, would be my date."

"Ah," Draco said. "The Death Eater's son on the arm of the Golden Savior, giving those healers who rejected me the two finger salute while helping a good cause. So Slytherin. I would love to."

Harry gave him a look that said that wasn't funny.

"Of course, I do care about the patients, Harry," Draco said exasperated. "I_ have given_ to the charity for the past two years."

Harry's eyes widened. "You're our anonymous donor! Neville and I have been trying to figure out who it is! You helped pay for half of that wing! Why didn't you take credit! St. Mungo's might have changed their tune!"

Draco stared at the shocked man. "Not everyone would feel such a donation was sincere, as my father probably put some of those patients in there to begin with," he said harshly and rolled his eyes at Harry's dumbfounded face. "I told you, I wanted to be a healer at first. I'm not _that_ big of a bastard."

"So," Draco forced the conversation along as Harry was still gaping at him like a trout. "Charity banquet. Check. Before that, I think we should go to the zoo. Luna gave me passes there ages ago. We can take your delightful little god son. He'd enjoy it. I always did."

"You want to take Teddy?" Harry asked, his eyebrows going up even further.

"Merlin," Draco fumed. "What is it with you tonight? Can I not like children now as well as help charity."

Harry shook his head, laughing.

"What's so funny, _darling_?" Draco asked angrily, perplexed at the humor Harry found.

"The press will love it, that's all. A Malfoy giving the son of a werewolf and his disowned cousin a piggy back ride. You'll be written as a saint." Harry laughed even harder. "Saint Malfoy! Oh, Merlin! It's too rich!"

Draco's lips curled into a smile, the blonde surprised that he had not even considered the public relations aspect of it, and Harry had.

"Why Harry!" he teased, winking at Harry conspiratorially. "Here I am, just trying to be a nice, and your mind gets all devious on me. Now who's thinking like a cunning snake?"


	14. Chapter 14

_The lovely J. owns all HPverse. Saw Deathly Hallows Pt. 2 last night. All I can say is: "Awesome." Thanks for reading!_

Harry picked up his excited and terribly hyper godson at the Tonks' residence before apparating to the entrance of the Scamander Zoo of Magical Creatures where they were to meet up with Draco. Thankfully the zoo did not allow photography, so reporters wouldn't hound them with Teddy around.

Draco smiled down warmly at Teddy as soon as he saw them, the young boy's hair color changing rapidly to one color to the next in his excitement.

"Well, hello, again, young sir," the blonde greeted him as Teddy's hair flashed burgundy, the man bending down to be on the boy's level.

"Hello, Dwaco!" Teddy returned happily.

"What do you tell him, Teddy?" Harry said in the best uncle voice he could muster that would have made Sirius snicker.

Teddy grinned wider, clearly knowing the answer.

"Thank you for taking me to the zoo!" he crowed. He looked back to Harry for a nod of approval. Draco laughed at the enthusiastic thanks.

"You are most certainly welcome," Draco said, and he then leaned in and stage whispered, "It wouldn't be any fun with just your uncle."

Teddy giggled, and Harry just snorted with his arms crossed.

"Hello, Harry," Draco greeted him with a big wink at Teddy, making the four-year-old erupt into more giggles. The blonde straightened himself up.

"Hello, Draco," Harry answered with a half smile. Truce or not, they would never tire of insulting each other, teasing or ortherwise.

"Zoo time!" Teddy yelled.

"Oh, yes! Hurry now! We want to see the animals, don't we?" Draco exclaimed, and Teddy nodded frantically.

"Alright then. Let's go," Harry said, uncrossing his arms and began walking to go through the entrance, him on the left side of his godson and Draco on the right.

They went to the ticket window, and Draco showed his passes to the worker. They were waved inside, and a familiar long blonde haired woman waited for them, staring up at the sky wide eyed.

"Er, hello, Luna," Harry called when she did not acknowledge them as they approached.

"Hello, Harry Potter," Luna said, tearing her eyes away from their skyward gaze and looked at the trio before her. "Hello, Teddy and Draco." Draco nodded with a smile in return.

"We came to see the animals!" Teddy exploded with anticipation.

"I know," Luna said, focusing her dreamy eyes on the boy. "I came here to see about a sick Dugbog, and since Draco said you were coming, I thought I'd give you a tour."

"Can we see it?" Teddy asked, hopeful.

"Maybe when it is feeling better. A Dugbog is not in such a good mood when it has flu," Luna answered in her rhythmic voice.

"Oh," Teddy said, nodding as if he completely understood.

Luna looked at the two men beside him. "Shall we?" she asked, and they began the tour.

Harry had never been to a wizarding zoo and was enjoying it almost as much as Teddy. They saw Hippocamp and Plimpies in the aquatic exihibit. It was even better for Harry because he could watch Teddy's eyes go round or see him jump and point with every new creature they saw. What continued to amaze him however, were not the Claberts or the Knarls Luna lectured them about in sing song. What amazed him was how Draco seemed to enjoy Teddy's reactions, too, and how he was so at ease with the little boy. Harry often watched as Draco would pick Teddy up when his short stature kept him from seeing the Crumple-Horned Snorkack or laugh along with him as they fed the vanishing and reappearing Diricawl from their hands in the bird house. When the blonde did something like that, Harry could barely believe this was the same boy he'd spent seven years with trading curses and hateful glares. The swaggering smirking boy in Harry's mind would for a moment be replaced with a man laughing with a four-year-old at a Diricawl appearing on the brunette's head.

After about an hour and a half they had reached the serpentine exhibit, and Harry was struck with déjà vu upon entering. Luna was telling Teddy about the Ashwinders behind magical glass, all of them slithering out of fire pits placed throughout their inflammable charmed space.

"Life span is about an hour after leaving the embers. We have to charm their living quarters to be inflammable, or their eggs would catch fire and burn the whole zoo down," Luna was saying cheerfully. "Their eggs actually can be eaten to cure fevers."

Harry was struck with a sudden sadness at not being able to greet the snakes. When the piece of Voldemort in him was destroyed that fateful and horrible night in the Forbidden Forest, Harry's ability to speak in Parseltongue had disappeared as well. He hung back with Draco as Teddy pressed against the glass, a memory from his childhood creeping on him.

"I went to a muggle zoo, once, when I was ten," he said out loud, the realization of why this all felt so familiar hitting him.

"Really?" Draco asked. "Was it much different?"

Harry smiled. "Well, the set up is the same, but, uh, muggle zoos definitely don't have unicorns."

"Ah," Draco said, smiling. "No, I guess they wouldn't."

"I actually found out I could talk to snakes because of that trip," Harry continued, chuckling as he remembered the terrified look on Dudley's face when the glass wall had disappeared. "Had a lovely chat with a boa constrictor and then accidentally sicked him on my cousin."

Draco stared at him. "You're joking, right?" he asked.

Harry shook his head in reply. "But the snake didn't even nip at him. No harm done."

"Should I be worried?" Draco laughed, eyeing the Ashwinders.

"Nah," Harry said, grinning, knowing Draco was not aware he was no longer a Parselmouth. "Wouldn't be right, sicking a snake on another snake."

Draco said nothing, but Harry could see him biting back a grin.

The group continued on the tour, Luna deciding to skip the threstals, explaining to Teddy that he wouldn't be able to see them, and she didn't want to make him feel left out.

Teddy quieted down a bit after that, clearly disappointed, but brightened immediately upon spying the next creature.

"What are those?" he cried in wonder as the little black furry things shuffled their long noses around on the ground.

"Nifflers," Harry told him. "See their snouts. They use them to sniff out gold."

"Wow," Teddy whispered.

"Do you want to play with them?" Luna asked Teddy. "They are very safe. We can go in their pin."

Teddy's eyes got as wide as Luna's, and he asked, "Can we?"

"Come," Luna said warmly. "I'll show you."

Luna took Teddy to the pin entrance on the side. She searched her skirt's pockets and pulled out a galleon.

"Here, put this in your pocket. When you go in, the Nifflers will smell the gold and try to find it, but they won't hurt you, I promise."

Harry watched in amusement as Teddy nodded and Luna put it in his jean's pocket. He took her hand and they went inside.

The five Nifflers immediately started sniffing the air when Teddy approached, and surrounded him, their furry noses poking at him all over, trying to reach his pocket.

Teddy started laughing.

"It tickles," he shouted as they nudged him, and he took out the coin for them to see, letting their noses run all over it.

"You can pet them, if you like," Luna told him, and the boy delightedly bent down and started rubbing their heads, to which the creatures happily obliged.

Harry and Draco shared smiles as they watched Luna and Teddy scratching the Niffler's backs.

They stayed for a while longer, a content Teddy wanting to see as much as possible, though he declared that the Nifflers were his favorite. At one exhibit, Harry pointed at a Jarvey, a beast that looked like a giant ferret, and asked Draco if that was his ex-boyfriend, to which Draco answered by casting Incendio to Harry's robes, just enough for Harry to run off laughing, feeling the smart of the flame.

Towards the end, Teddy's little feet were tired, and before Harry could scoop him up, Draco had cast a lightening charm on Teddy, picked him up, and settled him on his shoulders. Teddy beamed from his perch.

After thanking Luna profusely for such a nice tour, the group decided to head to Florean Fortescue's (reopened by a new wizard who kept the name in honor of the deceased former owner) for ice cream, Teddy cheering in approval. Soon Teddy was licking up a strawberry and peanut butter cone with sprinkles, his whole mouth smeared deep pink, and Harry was just thankful the ice cream cone had an anti melting charm on it so that his godson wasn't making a bigger mess. Andromeda would upset if Teddy ruined his good clothes.

Harry sighed with content inside as he steadily nibbled at his chocolate fudge cone. Draco was eating his the most neatly, having ordered a cup of pineapple sorbet, listening without any hint of impatience as Teddy went into detail about everything they had just seen.

"Do you want to show Draco some of your tricks?" Harry asked as the conversation wound down.

"Yeah!" Teddy said, munching on his cone, all the ice cream slurped down now.

Draco raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Okay," Harry said when Teddy looked ready. "What sound does a pig make?

Teddy scrunched up his eyes in concentration, and Draco glanced at Harry, not understanding.

Suddenly, Teddy's nose began to quiver and reshape itself, pulling up and up until it was a clear snout.

"Oink, oink," Teddy sounded through the nose, watching Draco's open mouth with glee.

"And a duck?" Harry asked.

Teddy concentrated again and the snout turned yellow and became a flat beak as Teddy's mouth disappeared.

"Quack, quack, quack!" the beak cried.

"How 'bout an owl?" Harry asked, grinning. This was one of his and Teddy's favorite games.

The beak sharpened and became smaller. "Hooooooo," the beak let out, Teddy looking very owl like with only his big eyes paired with the small beak on his face.

"A cat!" Harry challenged, and Teddy transformed his face to include a small pink nose and whiskers

. "Meooow," he finished and then put his face back normal with a button nose and a small bowed mouth.

Draco started clapping, and Harry joined in.

"Amazing!" Draco said, having recovered from his shock. "Bravo!"

"That's not all," Teddy boasted proudly. He closed his eyes and wiggled his ears and his nose slowly grew long and furry and sniffed wildly at the air.

"Nimma niffer," he said, now having added his new favorite animal to his transformations.

"Ho ho!" Draco laughed in awe. "Take a bow, sir!"

Teddy, back to normal, giggled and bowed to Draco and Harry.

"He does impressions, too," Harry told Draco, enjoying Teddy's showing off. He was always proud of his godson's abilities, a little piece of Tonks left to the world.

"Oh?" Draco asked, looking at Harry. "Can he do you?"

Teddy nodded. With more concentrating and a little grunt, Teddy's canary yellow hair turned jet black and grew longer and more disheveled. His nose and mouth grew bigger and his face expanded. He opened his eyes, and they had turned into a stunning green from their usual brown. Draco and Harry stared as a little lightning bolt shaped scar popped on the forehead of Harry's spitting image.

"Merlin!" Draco cried.

"Now that's a fine looking fellow," Harry joked, and Teddy's face shrunk and melted away back to his young face.

"Do someone else," Draco asked, resting his chin on his hand, completely fascinated now.

Teddy was on a roll. His hair then became a familiar ginger and freckles sprouted on his face as his mouth grew thin and wide, and Draco and Harry howled with laughter.

"He's turned into Weasley!" Draco crowed, overtaken. "Oh, but Teddy, be careful not to get stuck like that! Your real face is much more preferable."

The face of Ron grinned impishly at him, and suddenly his chin became longer and more pointed and his face went two shades paler. His hair changed to platinum, and his mouth turned up in a smirk.

Draco stopped laughing and just stared at his own face. "Eerie," he whispered finally.

Teddy shook his head hard, and his young face was back again, though the hair was auburn now instead of yellow.

"Simply wonderful!" Draco said, fawning over Teddy, standing to swoop him in a hug. "I have to say you are by far the most marvelous boy I have ever had the pleasure to meet." Draco turned to Harry, as he picked up Teddy. "He's got a sense of humor, this one."

"He does, indeed," Harry agreed. "Like his mother."

Teddy flushed with pleasure. He always liked to hear that compliment, just as Harry had about his mother's eyes.

Draco gave Teddy a firm squeeze before setting him down back in his chair and taking out his pocket watch. He frowned at it and snapped it close.

"Well," he sighed. "You two will have to carry on without me. I'm afraid I've got to meet the interior decorator for the shop in half an hour."

Teddy protested, but Draco quieted him with another hug. "Can't be helped," he said, smiling at Teddy. "Grown ups have to go do boring grown up things sometimes."

"Will you hang out with me again?" Teddy asked his eyes hopeful and pleading. Harry's eyes softened on his godson. Teddy always became attached to people quickly.

"Of course!" Draco said firmly. "If I don't I will have to hang out with just Harry, and you are much more fun than him."

"Shut it, you," Harry retorted good naturedly, giving Teddy a fake hurt look when Teddy smiled at that jab.

"Well, good afternoon to you both. Keep an eye on him, Teddy," Draco said with finality about to turn to walk down to his shop farther down Diagon Alley.

"Wait!" Teddy cried out, stopping him. Draco turned, smiling, waiting patiently.

"Awen't you gonna kiss Uncle Hawwy goodbye?"

Draco's smile faltered a little, not having expected such a comment.

"Er, Teddy," Harry started to explain, but Draco cut him off.

"You are quite right, Teddy," Draco said, meeting Harry's eyes. "A man should kiss his boyfriend goodbye."

Harry's eyes widened at that announcement, and sat unmoving as Draco walked back to Harry's side. Draco's eyes were decisive as he bent down and kissed Harry quickly on the cheek.

"Goodbye, Harry," he said softly.

"Goodbye, um, Draco," Harry spluttered. The blonde then walked over to Teddy and gave him a kiss on the head before making his way down the street, Harry staring after him.

When walking to the apparation point, Teddy held Harry's hand, swinging it and chatting happily.

"I like Draco," Teddy announced after a pause. "I hope you and him awe togetta foweva."

Taken aback, Harry could not think of anything to say in response that would be appropriate and simply swung their arms more, thinking to himself.

It was only then that he noticed a couple of photographers trailing quite a few paces behind, their flashes on dim. The memory of Draco kissing him on the cheek earlier played in his mind. He wondered if Draco had known the photographers were there.

* * *

><p><em>All creatures at the zoo are found in Rowling's <em>Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander, authoritative magizoologist._


	15. Chapter 15

_The lovely J. K. Rowling owns all of HPverse. Thanks for reading._

Hermione sat with Harry on her lunch break from the Legacy Library. Ron was supposed to have joined them, but an explosion had happened in one of the simulation rooms right before noon, and her husband was helping deal with the crisis. They were at their usual table at the Leakey Cauldron, eating the day's special: sausage with cabbage and cheese mash.

Her best friend had been fine when they came in, but after a perturbed owl had delivered the Prophet, Harry had grown quieter, forcing Hermione to ramble on about the newest collection of documents she was translating, knowing Harry was nowhere near as interested as she was in them.

"Alright, Harry," she finally said, stopping in the middle of her sentence about how she'd had to fix a grave misspelling by a coworker. "Out with it."

His eyes snapped to hers and he shook his head, looking apologetic.

"I'm sorry, Mione," he said. "Please, go on."

Hermione blew her bangs out of her face. _Men_, she thought_._

"It's okay, Harry. Even I'm bored now," she sighed. "What's on your mind?"

"Oh, it's nothing," Harry said, glancing at the newspaper.

"Mmmhmmm."

Harry was going to have to do much better than that. In one fluid motion, Hermione quickly snatched up the folded over paper from Harry's plate.

The page was an article in the social section. The main focus was a photo of Harry, Draco, and little Teddy happily slurping ice cream in front of Florean Fortescue's. The caption read: "Famous couple Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy spotted taking time out for the sweeter things in life with Harry's godson."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow at the article. She did not understand. The press was good, and the photo was actually an adorable one of Teddy. Last she'd heard, Harry and Draco were still on almost friendly terms. Clearly there was more to their little outing than Harry had mentioned.

"What is the matter?" she asked, her brain gearing up for solution mode.

"It's stupid," Harry groaned, forking his sausage a little too roughly, not looking at her.

"I cannot confirm or deny that until you tell me the issue," Hermione kept up, putting on her motherly patience tone.

"The reporters," Harry mumbled. "And Draco."

Hermione waited, knowing Harry always just needed a little time and prodding to tell something.

"We had a really good day at the zoo," Harry sighed, giving in to Hermione's eye contact. "You should have seen the two of them. Teddy was stuck to Draco like an adhesive charm, and Draco seemed to be just as taken…"

"Do you not like Teddy being fond of Draco?" Hermione asked, her eyebrows creasing in thought.

Harry frowned as their mugs of Butterbeer refilled themselves.

"No, no. In fact, I think it's good for Teddy to like the person I have to marry…," Harry answered, trailing off again.

Hermione patted her lips with her napkin, waiting for Harry to continue at his slow pace.

"It's just, at the ice cream parlor, Teddy asked Draco to kiss me goodbye."

"Naturally," Hermione chirped in. "He saw you kiss at the match."

"Yeah," Harry sighed. "So, uh, Draco kissed me…on the cheek. It kind of caught me off guard, and then I was taking Teddy home, I only noticed then that reporters had been around the whole time we'd been out. The sneaky bastards must have followed us from the zoo."

Understanding burst in Hermione's mind, and she looked at her long time friend sympathetically.

"You think Draco was putting on an act. For the reporters. Like at the quidditch match," she voiced his concern.

Harry nodded, staring at her across the table.

"But I can't be for sure," he added.

"I see why that would bother you, especially for Teddy's sake," Hermione told him. _Poor Teddy had experienced loss at such a young age, just like Harry._

Harry was silent again, lost in thought.

"Well," Hermione exhaled. "There seems to be only one way to get to the bottom of this."

Harry looked up. "Please don't say research at the library," he said with a small smile.

"Oh you!" Hermione laughed, throwing her napkin at him. Harry caught it, his smile just a bit bigger.

"Okay, what then?" he asked.

"Ask him. Ask Draco," she answered simply.

"I can't just ask him, Mione," Harry protested, tossing her napkin over his plate.

"And why not?" Hermione challenged, folding her arms on the table. "If you're going to get married, you should be able to ask him a question like that."

"Because," Harry began to argue. "Because…" Then he gave into her logic.

"Oh, you're right," Harry said resigned. "As always."

Hermione laughed at his end-of-the-world expression.

"Ask him, Harry," Hermione urged gently, reaching her hand across the table.

The black haired boy took it and squeezed it, warm friendship and trust in his expression.

"Alright," he promised, squeezing her hand once more before letting it go. "I will."


	16. Chapter 16

_The lovely J. K. Rowling owns all of HPverse. Promises of longer chapters coming soon. Thanks for reading!_

Draco apparated in a small alley in wizarding Paris; his mother wanted to have lunch at her favorite café. The smartly dressed blonde woman was already there waiting for him when he was escorted to their table.

"Hello, Mother," he greeted, kissing the cheek she offered him.

"Draco," she returned. "I've already taken the liberty of ordering for us."

He smiled, unfolding his napkin and placing it in his lap.

"Ah, let me guess," he said, knowingly. "You got the foie gras."

She pursed her lips, but her eyes were warm.

"Am I so predictable, my son?" she asked.

"Only at this restaurant," Draco assured her sincerely before asking, "So, what am _I_ having?"

"Quinoa cakes with a side of pureed cauliflower and broccoli and a salad," she recited. "It came highly recommended. I asked for tomato provencal sauce for the cakes."

Draco nodded his head in approval.

"So, what brings you to Paris?" he asked. "Besides the food."

"Evelein asked me to go shopping. Gustave is letting us take a peek at his new unreleased fall line," she said, a tired sigh already trying to escape from the sentence.

Draco gave his mother a sympathetic look. He knew his mother did not mind shopping in general, but Blaise's mother often spent hours in one store, which would try even the most enthusiastic shopper's patience.

Their food arrived, and the waiter was dismissed with a "Merci" from Mother.

"So, are you excited about your grand opening? It is only two days away. I was surprised you even agreed to meet me today with all your last minute work," she said, picking up her utensils.

"Pucey is holding the fort for me," Draco answered. "I will return after seeing you to Mrs. Zabini."

He did not even try to remember what the multiple timed widow's latest last name actually was.

"But, yes, I am pleased to be opening," he added. "I've inivited all the right people to attend, including the beautiful Mrs. Malfoy."

He winked at his mother, who let out an "Oh, pish posh!" but smiled all the same.

"Is Mr. Potter attending, as well?" she asked after a pause, raising her perfectly arched eyebrows.

"Of course," he answered, knowing she already knew the answer or she would be reprimanding him. "He is my intended. Harry and I have come to an understanding."

"Lovely," she said and then beamed at her son. "You have done the Malfoy name proud, Draco. Your father would have said the same."

Draco met his mother's warm eyes.

"Thank you, Mother. I am glad to hear such praise," he replied formally, the way he always did when not wanting to let his emotions show on his face His mother knew how much he appreciated approval, especially when his father was alive.

"And speaking of Mr. Potter," she added. "There's a darling picture of you and him with that charming looking little boy in the _Prophet_."

Draco stopped cutting his quinoa cake and looked at her a little surprised.

"Really?" he asked, frowning while thinking back on the other day. "I never saw any photographers."

"Draco," his mother admonished, a little exasperatedly. "Malfoys must always expect to be seen. Publicity can be a great weapon used in our favor or for our disgrace."

_Stupid Draco_, he scolded himself. _Of course there'd been cameras! You are dating the Great Harry Potter, after all. You let your guard down because of Teddy._

Draco nodded at the reminder, and Mrs. Malfoy's voice then softened.

"You all looked rather happy in it, I dare say," she reassured a careful eye on her son.

This time, Draco's eyebrows went up, in surprise. His mother's tone had a hint of something in it Draco could not place_. Not quite teasing, but…_

"Yes, well," Draco answered, clearing his throat to hide his embarrassment. "The boy is very endearing, even if he's Harry's godson."

"Your cousin," she said, and Draco's eyes snapped to hers in another bout of surprise.

"He is also your great cousin," she repeated more quietly.

_Well, well,_ Draco thought. _That was a new tune. _He remembered his mother agreeing with Bellatrix as his mad aunt had spat about "the abomination" when referring to Andromeda.

"I thought we were not to recognize those familial ties, Mother," he said, smirking at her.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, Draco," she order, voice calm but icier. "It does not become you."

Draco quickly straightened his features.

"Circumstances have changed, Draco, and so have we," she replied carefully, the ice having left her voice.

"Then why, "Draco kept his tone neutral, respectful. "Have you not been in contact with your…other sister?"

His mother's face was passive, but Draco knew that flash of pain in her eyes.

"I do not think that my sist—Andromeda—would welcome such contact," she said, a thoughtfulness Draco did not hear often in her voice.

Draco asked nothing more, and the two sat quietly eating for some time.

"Have you …did you see Andromeda when you visited the zoo?" she finally asked, her voice softer.

Draco shook his head.

"I have not seen her since the quidditch match," he answered.

His mother nodded and switched the conversation to asking about the interior designer's choices for the shop, but Draco knew with a well practiced eye that part of his mother was distracted as he answered, lost in memory.


	17. Chapter 17

_The lovely J. K. Rowling owns all HPverse. This chapter took forever to write. Attraction is the start of any romance. Thanks for reading!_

Harry and Hermione crossed the street to the small shop front with the sign _Dragon Tamer_ hanging above it. The dragon was a painted Antipodean Opaleyethat was flying happily around, letting out little puffs of smoke when they two were crossing the threshold. Inside the magically enlarged shop, reporters were rapidly clicking from their designated area, capturing the pale wooden shelves of products carved into the walls, the plush white chairs, the tall and modelesque employees in their silver robes talking to the opening's many guests, the giant skylight, and, of course, the just entered famous pair.

"Merlin!" he heard Hermione breathe beside him, when they had posed for a few photos and could take in the impressive shop properly.

"Agreed," Harry responded. Draco had sent him an invitation for him and a guest, and Ron was definitely not the spa type.

An especially gorgeous male employee came by and offered them glasses of champagne, leaving Hermione and Harry blushing as he left to attend to another guest.

"Mr. Potter. How good to see you again," a drawl not quite Draco's came behind him, and he turned to narrow his eyes at Mrs. Malfoy in a chocolate crushed velvet dress with a modest sweetheart cut, looking the picture of grace with one arm tucked neatly into the other, sipping the long stem glass of champagne, the corseted top fitting her slim figure.

_A demon in high heels_, Harry thought grimly.

"Mrs. Malfoy," he said, knowing he had to acknowledge her in public, rigidly bowing.

"And you've brought your friend. How delightful," she said, bowing back and eyeing Hermione.

"Mrs. Hermione Weasley," Hermione declared while stepping forward, holding her chin high.

Harry beamed inwardly, always having admired the way Hermione refused to let anyone's thoughts on her blood status make her feel any less of the wonderful witch she was.

Mrs. Malfoy made a smaller bow to her. "But of course. You're well known as a translator, Mrs. Weasley. I just read an article in _Runes Monthly_. Charmed to meet you."

Hermione kept her face politely blank, but Harry could see her shoulders straighten even more with pride. Harry bit back a snort.

_The whole Black line had to rolling in their graves at that sentence_, Harry thought darkly. Though _at least Sirius would be rolling with laughter._

Mrs. Malfoy turned back to Harry, pulling him out of his bitter thoughts.

"I do hope to see you at the Manor again, soon," she said, her voice ever pleasant but the serious meaning implicit. "After all, you and Draco have arrangements to make."

"It will be handled," Harry said sharply.

Mrs. Malfoy stared at his hard face before putting on a smile.

"Certainly," she said, her tone pure aristocracy.

"Mrs. Malfoy! Mr. Potter!" Harry heard the reporters cry from their section. "How 'bout a picture, eh?"

The tall blonde woman raised an eyebrow at him.

"Would you mind taking a photo together?" she asked sweetly, looking highly amused to know he was trapped.

Harry saw Hermione's eyeing the two carefully, making sure Harry's wand was nowhere in sight.

Gritting his teeth, he summoned any regalia in his Potter blood, and replied, "Happy to."

The two stepped together, Harry determinedly not yanking his arm back as the woman touched his elbow lightly for the pose.

_Draco is going to love this_, Harry thought, glad the other Malfoy wasn't smirking at him. He may not be one hundred percent sure about Draco's character, but he bloody hell wasn't ready to make a truce with his she-devil of a mother.

"Mrs. Malfoy!" A reporter called once the two were properly blinded by the flashbulbs. "May we have a minute? What do you think of your son's debut? "

'

"Excuse me," Mrs. Malfoy said, her smile fixed for the press. "I must go sing my son's praises."

She bowed again to Harry and faced the press area, depositing her glass on an empty tray a passing employee was carrying. Harry bowed back, aware of the many eyes on him, and returned back to Hermione, but not before hearing another question.

"How are you and your son's boyfriend getting along?" one reporter asked loudly, and Mrs. Malfoy's tinkling laugh floated within Harry's range.

"Oh, Harry is simply a delight…" she began, and Harry snorted out loud and followed Hermione to the shelves, where they eyed the green tubes and jars, all labeled with catchy names.

"Well, that was interesting," was all Hermione commented, picking up a spray bottle called _Sea Mist_ and reading the back of it.

"Harry!" Another familiar voice called. "Hermione!"

This time the two turned to see Harry's teammate Adrian waving to him in a long silk ivory bath robe that had _Dragon Tamer Spa_ embroidered on the breast pocket. He was in the spa doorway entrance.

"Hello, Adrian," Hermione greeted as they walked over to him. "Er, where've your clothes gone to?"

Adrian winked at her.

"Why Mrs. Weasley? Curious about what's underneath?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, used to Adrian's flirtations.

"Trying not to toss her biscuits, more like," Harry teased.

"Right charmer, you are, Harry," Adrian smirked at the Seeker. "I think I like your boyfriend better, who the robes are compliments of, by the way. Whole team's doing the spa demonstration."

Just then, an auburn haired woman in employee robes, equally as beautiful as the man who'd offered Harry champagne, approached them.

"Hello, Mr. Potter," she said, with a small bow towards them all. "The spa demonstration is about to start, and Mr. Malfoy wanted to be sure you had arrived."

"Er, yes, we're here," Harry replied.

She smiled politely. "Will you please come with me?"

They three followed the woman down the short hall into the salon joined to the shop.

"I think I know who I'll be asking for drinks after this," Adrian whispered to Harry, staring pointedly at the woman with a look that said Christmas had come early.

The woman turned around, and flashed him a cheeky grin, having clearly heard him.

"Honestly," Hermione mumbled exasperatedly beside Harry. "Anything that walks..."

The salon used the same color scheme as the shop: porcelain white vanities and sinks with polished silver knobs and trim, more of the white lounge chairs with silver and white pillows, robes like Adrian's hanging on one side of the wall. Another pearly dragon had been painted on the wall and was gliding on its back lazily.

There were greetings from one section of the salon as Harry saw his other teammates all lounging on chairs while employees were washing their hair or soaking their feet in large basins.

"I'm in heaven," Janice called, a blissful expression on her face as her head was being massaged by a rather muscular male employee.

Harry turned as he heard that well known drawl coming from entry way.

"And this is the salon. As you can see, the Appleby Arrows are thoroughly enjoying "The Works" package at the moment."

Draco was leading a group of selected reporters and guests, including his mother, looking confident and poised with one hand in his trousers' pocket while the other gestured around the room. His platinum locks matched perfectly with his all white suit.

The blonde paused when he saw Harry looking at him, and the grey eyes smiled at him as he gave a short nod in his direction before continuing his tour.

Harry was surprised at the small smile that crossed his own face as he watched Draco in his element, strutting around with that Malfoy attitude he'd seen so much in school. This was the Draco he knew from before.

"'The Works' include hair, face, hand, and foot treatment," Draco was saying. "All clients will have a wash and conditioning with my Purity line, then a head massage using the shine and highlight enhancing products, before the hair is dried and styled. A facial is given, as well, used to reduce any redness or puffy eyes, and leaves the client glowing. Our mask cream is called _Lumos_, if any of you are interested in purchasing from the shop."

The reporters all murmured with interest as their quills took down everything Draco said.

Draco turned a dazzling smile on the team.

"At this time I would like to thank the Arrows for participating in this demonstration. With the great season they've been having, I am sure they would agree they deserve some pampering."

The team let out loud whoops as the crowd clapped. Hermione clapped beside Harry and nudged him with her elbow as grinned with his teammates sheepishly.

Draco locked his hands behind his back.

"Now for those broomstick worn hands, we've combined a skin softener balm with the _Run Ragged_ nail care kit, guaranteed to leave nails strengthened, smoothed, and polished."

Draco signaled for an employee to come forward, and she held up a pair of white gloves for the reporters to see.

"These," Draco indicated the gloves as he spoke. "Are our _Helping Hands_, gloves charmed for as long as 50 hours of massage time. They're infused with the softening balm, magicked to replenish themselves as long as the charm holds. Perfect for those who want the Dragon treatment at home."

Harry watched curiously while being amused at seeing Hermione lean forward to have a better look. Having always been fascinated by charms, she looked very much like the girl she'd been in school, listening to a lecture. He shook his head at her teasingly and turned his attention back to the demonstration.

Draco motioned to Xi to hold his hand out, tapped the gloves with his wand, and the hands jumped to life, expertly hovering in mid air by invisible arms, massaging Xi's outstretched hand.

"They're warm!" Xi exclaimed, watching the gloves knead his knuckles.

"Yes, they also have a warming charm that activates when in use," Draco answered. "How does the massage feel?"

"Great," Xi answered, staring at the hands in wonder.

"Er," Tommy asked, cheekily raising his hand beside Xi, grinning at the gloves. "Will they massage anywhere?"

Harry's eyebrows went up, understanding exactly what Tommy was getting at.

_Merlin_'s_ beard_, he thought. _His teammates never thought about anything other than sex_. Draco's face remained passive as he opened his mouth to reply.

"They will work on hands, arms, feet, legs, backs, necks, and scalps," Draco answered. "However, they will deactivate if used on anywhere inappropriate, I assure you, Mr. Gallagher."

The crowd all had a good laugh, Adrian whispering to Harry that Draco was no fun and giving a thumbs up to Tommy.

"Though, I bet he gives you great massages without the gloves, eh, Harry?" he whispered, slyly elbowing Harry in the ribs, and Harry felt his ears grow hot.

Harry had always been a very visual person, unfortunately, and had to quickly suppress the thought of Draco and his hands. Harry did not need that kind of image anywhere in his head when it came to _Draco_!

"Will you shut up!" Hermione whispered, annoyed at Adrian. "You are positively vile!"

Adrian held up his hands in a gesture of peace at her, and his face was all innocence after that, almost looking apologetic.

_Thankfully_, Harry thought. _Adrian, unlike Tommy knew when too much was enough._

Draco was continuing.

"The feet have a similar combination as the hands, only with an anti-fungal elixir added..."

Draco talked about a few more of the products before inviting everyone to try some samples and look around. Relieved of being tour guide, he sauntered over to Harry and Hermione.

"So what do you think of my place?" Draco asked them, grinning and gesturing around the room grandly.

"Not bad," Harry shrugged, clearly baiting the blonde. Draco tutted his disapproval, but his eyes sparkled.

"Not bad? Clearly your taste is questionable," the blonde said, pretending hurt.

Hermione shared a look with Harry before clearing her throat.

"It's really great, Mal—er—Draco," Hermione told him sincerely. "Everything looks beautiful."

Draco looked triumphant and pleased.

"For that, Grange, I mean, Hermione," he said. "I am going to give you a free styling."

Hermione protested as he snapped his fingers.

"Natasha," he called, and the auburn haired woman who'd led them into the spa appeared at his side.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy," she asked, with a small bow to the group.

He gestured to Hermione.

"Please give our guest here a complete hair treatment."

"Yes, sir," the employee answered. "Would you rather I used Curls Cascade or Straight Laced?"

He looked Hermione's hair up and down, hand on his chin as Hermione sputtered.

"Curls Cascade, I think," he answered.

"Draco, thank you, but I really don't think that's necc—" Hermione began.

"Nonsense," Draco dismissed her. "Natasha is my _best_ stylist."

With that, a smiling Natasha led Hermione away, who was following hesitantly.

"Like a king in his castle," Harry grinned, watching Draco's satisfaction as Hermione left them, shaking his head.

"I prefer emperor," Draco replied and the two smiled at each other before Harry suddenly felt nervous.

He and Hermione had agreed that Harry should ask Draco to dinner so that they could talk about the zoo incident, deciding not to ruin Draco's opening. Harry relaxed his smile with a deep breath, and he shoved his hands in his black trouser pockets.

"Er, congratulations," he replied lamely, not knowing what to say.

Draco looked at him curiously as Harry stood rocking on his heels, but when he opened his mouth, what he said next caught Harry by surprise.

"Will you let me style your hair?"

Before Harry could knot his eyebrows in protest, Draco's eyes were gleaming as he added quickly.

"I know you don't like me to take away your choice, and Merlin forbid you use any of the product I gave you, but _this is_, after all, _my_ big day."

Finally after a moment of consideration, Harry sighed in concession. At least this way he could think of how he wanted to ask Draco to the talk.

"If you must," he said, and Draco happily led him to a single sink with a big comfy chair and matching ottoman.

"You should feel honored," Draco said as he conjured a small white cape to wrap around Harry's front. "I only style the most important clients myself."

Harry snickered, and Draco lowered the seat back so Harry's head could rest in the basin.

"So I heard you and my mother had a nice chat," Draco replied conversationally, the sarcasm clear.

Harry tensed at the mention of Mrs. Malfoy.

"Oh, yes," Harry responded. "No hexing, yet. I'd say it went spectacular."

Draco chuckled, "She's going to be your mother-in-law soon."

Harry made a nasty face, and Draco gently rapped him on the head.

"Remember, Harry. She is my mother, not the giant squid, so stop making that face."

Harry grumbled but relaxed as he felt the warm water filling the sink. Draco accioed shampoo, and soon his fingers were threading through Harry's hair, massaging lather into his scalp. Harry unconsciously closed his eyes at the touch, only remembering Ginny ever being the one to run her fingers through his hair. It felt much different with Draco's slender but strong hands in contrast to her tiny, feminine ones. Nice actually, if Harry had to admit_. _

_But only because a man's doing it_, he snapped to himself in his mind. _Not because of Draco in particular._

He felt Draco rinse his hair out and then heard the water draining as a big fluffy towel began attacking his soaked head in a methodical rhythm. He kept his eyes closed.

"Using drying spells for too long on hair damages it," Draco suddenly said, making Harry's lids lift. "We towel dry the hair as much as possible before using magic."

Harry nodded slowly to show he was listening.

After a minute Draco asked for Harry to raise his shoulders up as he adjusted the seat and conjured a cool air blowing spell out of his wand to completely dry Harry's hair.

Harry watched yet another gorgeous guy walking by in employee robes as his hair blew gently in his eyes.

"All of your workers look like models," Harry commented absently, and Draco smiled.

"That is because they are," he said, ending the air spell. "Working here guarantees them exposure. In fact, Natasha is going to be in the first advertisement in the _Prophet_."

"Now," Draco said, grabbing a bottle of product. "Let's see what we can do with this hair of yours."

Harry made a show of rolling his eyes, but Draco ignored him and began squeezing a clear gel like substance into his palms. He stepped in front of Harry and leaned in close to start working it through his thick black mop.

"The key to a good hair potion is to let the ingredients work with the hair not against it, Harry," he said as he ran his fingers over Harry's scalp. "That is why flattening charms do not help much."

The blonde smiled at Harry as he worked the potion through, beginning to style.

Harry looked up at the blonde while Draco concentrated; the man's smile conjured images of the blonde actor who smirked at the press from their first dinner to contrast with the beaming man who carried Teddy on his shoulders.

_Which one was real_, Harry wondered, the question having eaten him up at night.

Draco had proven to be amiable enough to Harry in private, both having become friends of sorts who liked to insult each other. But what if that was all to keep Harry happy before the wedding? Though, if Harry was honest, there was not a real reason for Draco to make Harry happy at all since there was no way Harry could get out of marrying Draco with the life debt, except that it made things easier between them.

_And he in no way would want Draco to use Teddy as a publicity gain_, Harry thought fiercely.

Andromeda wouldn't allow it either, having bore the brunt of the Black and Malfoy displeasure for years. But had Draco not made it clear that he had changed. This is why Harry and Draco needed to have a talk, so Harry could be sure.

When Harry came back from his thoughts, Draco was smirking.

"You look concerned, Harry. Worried I am going to make all your hair fall out?"

"Ha, ha, ha," Harry responded. "Mess with my hair, and I'll dye it as red as the Weasleys' in your sleep."

Draco shuddered dramatically.

"A fate worse than death," he mock whispered.

After another pause, Draco spoke again, not looking at Harry anymore as he moved Harry's fringe out of his eyes.

"Hair like yours is a bit rebellious," he mused. "It doesn't want to be told what to do. That's why I would never use a _Hair Tidy_ potion on you. Instead, I use products that allow the hair to do what it wants, just giving it a few stylish nudges every now and then."

He gave Harry a quick wink, feeling Harry stare at him.

"Sounds a bit like our relationship, hmmm?" the blonde teased but then frowned in concentration.

"Merlin, Harry! This cowlick is stubborn…"

Harry grinned at the blonde's frustration but was soon biting his lip. Draco's face was at just the right distance for Harry to study closely with Draco not paying attention, and Harry noticed that he had darker flecks of gray, almost lead colored, closer to the pupils in his eyes. _They were actually quite interesting to look at…_

"Er, what did you say this potion was called again? Windblown Whoozy?" he asked hurriedly, breaking away from his current line of sight…_and thinking._

"Whimsy," Draco corrected. "But that's not what I'm using."

"Oh," Harry said, his ears burning a little. "Sorry."

"This potion is a customer favorite," Draco answered after a pause, his eyes fastening with Harry's. "It's named _Sex Hair_."

"Oh," Harry said again, a little higher.

Harry felt Draco's hands still as they continued to stare at each other. Harry could once again see the individual dark grey flecks in Draco's irises.

"The title is a little obvious, though," Draco continued after a thought, his voice having gone a little softer, deeper.

"A bit, yeah," Harry replied weakly, his ears searing with heat now.

He watched as Draco unconsciously moistened his lips, both still not moving.

_Don't look at his mouth!_ Harry reprimanded himself quickly when he caught his eyes lingering where Draco's tongue had darted out.

Harry could smell the citrus shampoo Draco had used on him, like lemons, but something else was mixed in the air, too, something sweeter. It didn't seem to be coming from Harry.

_Mint_, the scent announcing itself as Harry's mind zeroed in. _The mint smell was coming from Draco_.

Harry thought back to the golden vodka drink the blonde had had at The Newt's Eye. It had had mint, too. That's how he knew it. When they'd been dancing…

_Snap out of it_, he scolded himself. _What is wrong with you! Ask him to talk, already._

"Draco," he breathed, Draco's hands still on the back of his head.

"Yes," Draco answered, his eyes searching Harry's face.

"Er, I wanted to ask if we could talk privately…" Harry struggled to say.

Air and common sense seemed to return to Harry in a sudden whoosh, and he sat up more, putting distance between them.

_Thank Merlin!_ His head screamed. He was going mental.

"…After the opening. Are you free for dinner?"

Draco had straightened, too, sensing the change in atmosphere, and stepped back.

"I'm afraid not," he said, clearing his throat and moving his hands again to finish styling. "I have an interview with _BeWitched Style_ after this. Do you want to meet later tonight?"

Harry shook his head slowly.

"Can't. Janice scheduled a night practice so that we could come to the opening today. Uh, maybe breakfast tomorrow? You can come to my place or we can meet up…?"

Draco nodded in agreeance, his mouth pressing into a line.

"Your place is most sufficient," he answered, his voice a bit more formal. "I have often wanted to see the family estate of my mother's line. Is eight thirty reasonable?"

"That's fine," Harry answered.

The blonde stepped further back to study Harry's hair.

"I think we're just about finished," Draco declared, slipping back into businessman mode, but nodding in approval. He handed Harry a mirror. Before he could take it, however, a loud gasp echoed through the spa.

Both men turned with the rest of the room to look toward the source of the sound, and Harry dropped his mirror, hearing it crash into pieces before humming and putting itself back together with a Fixer Upper spell.

"Mione?" Harry questioned loudly, amazed as he watched a woman—_Hermione!_—stand up from her seat, eyes wide as saucers.

She looked up at him, her familiar bushy hair having completely transformed into spilling tight spirals down her shoulders.

Her face still held shock as she pulled on one curl and watched it in the mirror bounce back perfectly in place. She looked amazing.

A few whistles were heard from his teammate's area, and Harry dumbly heard Draco practically crow in delight.

"Well, well!" he exclaimed, strolling over to her, beaming. "If the Weasley doesn't get down on one knee and beg you to marry him again when he sees you, then I swear I'll snap my wand!

Hermione's face pinked darkly as she smiled at the blonde. Harry hadn't seen her so pleased since she had gotten her N.E.W.T results back.

* * *

><p>Draco lay in his bed that night, arms under his head, staring at his ceiling above his bed. It had been a busy but successful day for him, and now he was ready to sleep.<p>

The only problem was that he had not been able to turn off his mind for the past thirty minutes. Now that he was not distracted, his time with Harry today had been replaying itself in his head.

He was curious to know what Harry wanted to talk about in the morning, and Draco wished that was all he could say he was pondering, but truth be told it was those green eyes he kept seeing when he closed his own. The way they had looked at him in the salon, not with the odd surprise or teasing he'd been seeing lately when they were out together, and definitely not the disgust and annoyance that had marked them at school. This look had been a little more clouded….more vulnerable.

_No, that wasn't the right word_, Draco thought, frustrated at the pull his stomach gave when he pictured Harry's face at that moment. _They'd looked…_

The word suddenly rang clear in his mind.

_Intimate_.

The sound of it fit perfectly with the feeling Draco was having.

_Well,_ Draco reasoned. _They had been in a sort of intimate position_,_ he supposed, with Draco running his hands through Harry's hair, on the back of his head, having to stand close._

They normally were not standing that close when alone. But that didn't mean Harry was getting all goo-goo eyed on him.

_But still_, a voice creeped into his mind. _Both of them had been so close, and Harry had looked like, well, like he had wanted to…_

_Shut it, you prat!_ Draco snapped at himself. _Don't you dare finish that thought!_

With a stern warning to fall asleep, he relaxed his mind, finding a momentary peace.

But it wasn't long before, behind his closed eyes, emerald ones were staring up at him under long, dark lashes.


	18. Chapter 18

_The lovely J. K. Rowling owns all of HPverse. My friend makes English breakfast for me most Sundays. Very delicious! Thanks for reading!_

"A Malfoy! Here! At the nobel house of Black!" Kreacher was exclaiming all over the house that morning. "Mistress would be so pleased, she would."

Harry had told Kreacher of their breakfast guests when he'd come by yesterday to grab his quidditch gear.

Harry and Hermione (who was being looked up and down every ten minutes by a bloke and blushingly tucking her new curls behind her ear) had decided to pick some things up from the market for the morning. Hermione had some vegan coworkers, and so she took Harry to a shop she'd heard that sold products specifically for vegetarians and vegans. They bought some tempeh bacon and dairy and egg free made bread before Hermione said goodbye to surprise Ron, leaving Harry to buy a small tub of margarine on his way back to Grimmauld Place.

Kreacher had immediately jumped up in alarm with a cry of the house "not being presentable" and "Mistress would have my head" before madly starting to clean. Harry had stood in the living room, bewildered before sending a quick owl to Draco about the password to reveal Grimmauld Place and then leaving for the pitch.

When Harry had returned late into the night after practice, he'd found Kreacher still up, polishing the candlesticks and muttering rapidly to himself.

Too tired to try and talk to the house elf, Harry had simply called out a "Night, Kreacher" before retiring upstairs.

He woke up early the next morning with an out of focus Kreacher standing over him. He sat up with a jolt.

"Master Potter must get ready for Master Draco!" the house elf demanded.

Harry smashed his glasses on his face and grabbed hi wand to do a Tempus spell.

"Kreacher," Harry groaned. "He won't be here for another two hours."

Kreacher must straighten up the bedroom," Kreacher answered.

"But Kreacher," Harry said groggily. "Draco isn't even going to see my bedroom."

The house elf just crossed his arms and glared at Harry.

Harry sighed tiredly.

"Okay Kreacher, I'm up."

Kreacher barely let Harry swing his legs out of bed before he began trying to pull the covers up and smooth out the comforter.

Yawning, Harry crossed the hall to the shower and began undressing. He stood under the hot water, leaning his head against the wall, trying to will himself more alert. He jerked awake minutes later, having fallen back asleep and hit his head on shampoo carrier.

"Bloody hell," he mumbled, reaching for the soap and lathering up his arms.

When he returned to his bedroom, the towel tucked around his waist, he found his bedroom all tidied up, no more practice clothes or chocolate frog boxes on the floor. His best suit was laid out for him on the bed, and Harry snorted at Kreacher's suggestion of attire.

He ignored the suit and went to his closet to pick out a navy light jumper and jeans. That would have to be good enough for the house elf.

He pulled off his towel and scrubbed his hair with it while getting a pair of boxers out of his chest of drawers. Dressing and throwing his towel in the laundry bin, he looked at himself in his closet mirror.

His cowlick had come back with a vengeance. Great, he thought, and headed downstairs, hoping for a fresh pot of tea to be waiting in the kitchen.

Kreacher eyed him disapprovingly when he saw that Harry was not wearing the suit and muttered about Harry "at least be putting on a collared shirt" while gathering ingredients.

Harry poured himself a full mug of tea and was sighing gratefully as the warmth ran down his throat when Kreacher growled "What are these vile smelling strips?"

He was holding up a tempeh bacon strip with the same expression he would have for Hermione's talk about house elf freedom. Harry choked back a laugh, nearly spitting tea back into his mug.

"It's fake bacon," Harry said. "For Draco. He's vegan."

Kreacher sniffed it suspiciously and made another disgusted face.

"Master Draco has a strong stomach," Kreacher mumbled and threw the strips into the frying pan.

"And don't add anything to them," Harry warned, seeing Kreacher eyeing the lard.

Kreacher muttered even more, and Harry went to sit in the parlor with his tea and the latest _Quidditch Quarterly_. He tried to focus on an article about the Gorodok Gargoyles, but once he was not distracted by things like shopping with Hermione or practice or Kreacher, he felt himself contemplating the blonde man who would soon be on his doorstep. Harry's mind must have been dwelling on the soon coming conversation even more because Harry realized that he was nervous, not just because of his concerns for Draco's genuineness was not just toward Teddy but toward himself, as well. Not about any display of romance or physical affection, but the balanced friendship they had forged.

And then Harry's mind wandered to their interaction at the shop yesterday.

_The shades of gray in Draco's eyes, his fingers in Harry's hair, that look of concentration on his face, the mint smell in Harry's face, Draco moistening his lips…_

Harry flushed, and he bit the inside of his cheek hard to break that train of thought.

_Dear Merlin, he would not be attracted to Draco! _He'd clearly taken a bludger to the head if he was thinking about Draco's lips. Had he not wanted to gag the first time they'd kissed after that quidditch match?

Harry thought back to that day and replayed the kiss in his head. It hadn't been passionate or anything, pretty simple actually.

_And warm_, his brain added. And now that he thought of it_, pretty soft and…_

_For all that is magic, would his brain just shut up!_

Admitting that Draco was not a troll in the looks department was one thing, but thinking about actually wanting to have a snog was another. Draco would always be a git; he was just a less of a git now.

Determinedly Harry finished reading the article and went back upstairs to faff around until Draco arrived. He sat on his red duvet and looked at all the photos on his wall. Ron and Hermione gave him a quick wave as they started shoving cake in each other's faces, the photo having been taken at their wedding reception. His parents and Sirius were beaming at him from the picture of the first Order of the Phoenix; the quidditch team were cheering and zipping around on their brooms from the day they won the European Cup. Harry smiled at all of them, happy memories captured forever.

He continued to look around the room, his eyes catching when he looked over at his robes hanging up by his bedroom door. Something green was sticking out of one of his day robes' pocket. He stood up and walked over to it, fishing it out.

It was a jar of _Windblown Whimsy_ that Draco had given him, the first night they had went out. Harry had not bothered retrieving it from his robes, since he decided that Draco could just kiss his arse if he thought he could tell Harry how to do his hair.

Looking down at now, remembering how good his hair had looked yesterday, even when he was finished with practice, Harry had second thoughts. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to just try it; not like every day, but sometimes.

After all, he was going to marry a salon owner.

He took the jar to the bathroom, read the instructions that appeared on the back at his touch, unscrewed the jar, and scooped out two fingers off the mouse like substance.

Harry stared at himself in the mirror, his eyes fixed on his head.

"Here goes," he told himself.

* * *

><p>Draco arrived five minutes early on the doorstep of Grimmauld Place. An owl had arrived with the password last evening, and Draco had stood in the street between 11 and 13 before looking reading the parchment out loud with a knowing smile.<p>

"Dumbeldore lives" revealed 12 as soon as the phrase was spoken.

He lifted the heavy knocker and rapped it against the door two solid times. Shortly, the door swung open to reveal a deeply wrinkled looking house elf with a particularly snout like nose in a black uniform who at the moment was staring as if Christmas had come quite early when seeing Draco in the doorway.

"Master Malfoy," he said in hushed reverence and bowed low when allowing Draco to enter.

"We are honored, we are sir," the elf told him as the door shut, his squished face still turned down.

"Thank you," Draco said, taking off his day robe and handing it to Kreacher, revealing his tucked in black oxford and gray trousers. "May I inquire where the master of the house is?"

"On his way down," Harry's voice called, and Draco turned to see the man coming down the stairs. Draco couldn't help but notice how nice Harry's navy jumper suited his complexion.

_Force of habit_, he told himself. _It's my job to notice what makes people look good._

Draco focused his attention back on Harry, suddenly noticing a difference in Harry's appearance.

_But what? He was wearing his glasses, his hair was—_

A slow smile spread across Draco's face. Harry had styled his hair, his fringe having the swept back look, like Harry had simply raked his fingers through it, only Harry's hair would never stay that way.

"Master Potter," the elf intoned, gesturing grandly to Draco. "May I present Master Malfoy."

"Yeah, thanks, Kreacher," Harry said absently, brushing off the elf's formalities.

"Like the hair, Harry," Draco called, smirking. "You must tell me what product you're using."

Harry rolled his eyes, but Draco knew it was only for show. "Don't get too used to it."

Draco heard the house elf gasp at Harry's gruff response. He was eyeing Harry incredulously.

"Master Potter!" the elf exclaimed. "Master Malfoy has given you, master of the house of Black"—he emphasized the surname—"a compliment, he has. Surely you mean to thank him as proper, sir."

Harry stared at Kreacher, puzzled, and Draco smothered a snicker with his hand. He straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat, addressing the elf, Kreacher.

"It is quite alright. Harry and I are acquainted well enough that he may take liberties— "

"Pardon, sir, but Master Potter represents the house of your mother, he does," Kreacher said, turning an adoring face to him. "A guest of the Black house is to be respected."

Harry's mouth was opening and shutting like a fish, but the elf looked resolute. Finally, Harry took a step forward and hesitantly gave a short bow.

"My, uh, apologies, Draco," Harry said, eyeing Kreacher. "Thank you for the compliment. Er, your potion works well."

"Not to worry," Draco responded his lips a little tight from trying not to laugh. "No harm done."

He looked to his side to the elf appeared placated.

Harry, stuck his hands in his pockets, shrugging his shoulders.

"Are you…hungry?" he asked, clearly not wanting to be reprimanded for being rude again.

"Yes! Yes!" Kreacher cried. "Please, let me escort you to the dining room, sir."

The two men raised eyebrows at each other over the elf's head but followed him to the room off from what must be the door to the kitchen.

Kreacher opened the door and Draco looked around, pleased at the long, gorgeously carved oak table with straight back chairs, the display of the silver plate ware in a curio cabinet on one wall, the wrought iron chandelier over the table, the scenic landscape portraits.

"Lovely," he complimented, to which the elf looked overjoyed.

They took seats at the far end, Kreacher pulling the chair out for him before retiring to the kitchen.

Crystal goblets were set with silver cutlery and cloth napkins with the Black family seal. Harry pulled his chair closer to the table across from him.

Draco looked over his shoulder to make sure they were alone and leaned toward Harry, whispering, "That house elf of yours is quite zealous."

Harry gave a laugh.

"I think he's in love with you. He'll be proposing before the meal is over," Harry shot back.

Kreacher bustled back in as Draco arranged his napkin over his lap, pushing a tiny cart laden with items.

He placed an empty silver plate in front of Draco, and then did the same for Harry, adding a dish of black pudding by his cutlery.

Next, he placed a basket of toast and a jug of pumpkin juice on the table between them, filling Draco's goblet with an exclamation of being "cold and pulpy, sir" before placing the serving dishes on the table: a plates of grilled tomatoes, fried eggs, and bacon accompanied by bowls of sautéed mushrooms and baked beans. Everything for a proper English breakfast.

Kreacher set one plate of a different, strange looking bacon besides Draco, and left the room.

"It's tempeh," Harry explained, reassuring Draco when he gave him a questioning look.

Draco nodded in appreciation, and they both began loading up their plates.

"So what's new for the shop today?" Harry asked, dipping his toast in the yellow of his egg that was running over one side of his plate. Draco was loading his toast with beans, mushrooms, and a tomato as he answered.

"Oh, starting the daily routine. Blaise and Luna are coming back from Germany today. They were sorry to miss the opening, but Blaise was doing negotiations and the Baron insisted he bring Luna around to keep his wife company. They promised to stop by today and buy a giant gift basket for Blaise's mother and make me dinner tonight to make up for it."

"That sounds nice," Harry replied, forking eggs and beans into his mouth.

"Yes," Draco said. "Luna's making her vegetable stew. It's my favorite."

He was about to say more but then realized it would be rude to discuss his outing without inviting Harry. He eyed the dark haired man, calculating.

Would Harry like to come? He liked the Zabini's, but would he mind spending so much time with Draco? What if he already had plans?

Draco mentally rolled eyes at himself.

_Dear Merlin, he was marrying this man. There was no reason to worry about inviting him somewhere._ Harry would either go or he wouldn't. Draco should still be polite.

"Um, Harry. Would you like to come with me tonight?" the blonde asked.

Harry looked up from his plate surprised.

"Er," the man started.

"If you are not already engaged this evening," Draco added, not wanting to obligate him.

"No, no. I'm not," Harry answered, shaking his head. "I would like to come, yeah. Thanks. Will there be enough stew?"

"Luna makes enough to feed a herd of threstals," Draco reassured him.

The two smiled at each other awkwardly for a moment before Draco forked some of the tempeh bacon to break eye contact, having had a flashing thought of how nice Harry's smile was.

"Mmm," he munched and swallowed. "Pretty good."

Harry had still been looking at him focused but seemed to snap out of it as he went back to eating.

"Hermione and I went to this vegan store for it. Green Magic, I think it's called," Harry said, picking up his own bacon with his fingers and tearing a bite off.

"Hmmm," Draco made a noise, and silence fell over them again.

"So, Harry," Draco said after a moment of remembering why he was having breakfast here in the first place. "What is it you wanted to talk about?"

"Oh, uh" Harry said, blinking his eyes quickly for a moment. "Yes, well, I wanted to ask…Did you see the photo of us with Teddy in the Prophet?"

Draco laid his fork down by his plate. That had not been what he was expecting. He took a swig of pumpkin juice

"Yes," Draco answered, looking over the rim of his goblet at the man across.

Harry was fidgeting.

"The photographers who took it, did you…you see them? Did you know they were there?"

Draco shook his head. Maybe Harry was having a hard time with the paparazzi.

"I didn't," he said. "They're sneaky little bleeders, aren't they?"

He looked at Harry, trying to figure out his expression.

"You didn't know, either, right?"

"No," Harry looked abash but his answer rang sincere.

"I didn't think you would have," Draco continued, glancing at his plate to pop a mushroom into his mouth. "Wouldn't like the press about when Teddy is around. I wasn't very fond of them using him as a center piece in the articles."

When he returned to facing Harry, he was shocked at the frown on the man's face.

"What is it?" he asked, not knowing what he could have said.

Harry's face softened back into a sheepish expression.

"Just mad at myself is all," Harry mumbled.

"About the reporters being around Teddy?" Draco asked. "Don't beat yourself up over it; we couldn't have known."

Harry took off his glasses and rested his head on his raised forearm.

"That's just it," Harry groaned. "I thought you did."

"Beg pardon?" Draco replied, not fully understanding.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and met the blonde's eyes.

"I thought you knew they were and didn't tell me," Harry exhaled. "I thought you were maybe playing along with Teddy to look good."

Draco felt himself bristle up in shock and anger, but quickly smoothed any emotion out of his posture or expression.

_Now, now, Draco_, he told himself. _Try to think reasonably. Would you not have done that in your younger days, when Harry knew you?_

It still offended him, though. Draco had genuinely enjoyed being around Teddy, and here was Harry thinking it was all a publicity stunt. What _little progress they had made._

"I'm sorry. I should have known better," Harry offered when Draco had not responded. Draco inhaled calmly but his tone had a small bite to it in his next sentence.

"It's fine," he said. "You were just being cautious."

"You told me you had changed," Harry began.

"Our past hinders your perception," Draco cut him off, not needing to hear any speeches. "No need to put yourself out."

"But I've seen that you've changed," Harry pressed. "It's just, you are so bloody good at being all smiles for the camera…" Draco heard Harry breathe slowly.

"We have to present a united front," Draco defended.

"Yes, but you have been cordial even in private," Harry countered, in all Gryffindor mode now, Draco thought. "I'm the one who cannot seem to let go of what happened in school. I'm the one being a prat."

Draco sighed heavily at these words.

"We've been put in a difficult situation," he began, in an attempt to justify Harry's actions.

"Which you are trying to make the best of," Harry interrupted defiantly, not letting Draco cut him any slack.

Green eyes burned into grey ones, and Draco was reminded of his thoughts the night before as Harry softened once again.

"Draco, I want to be friends," Harry said, leaning forward, resolution in his voices. "For real. And friends trust each other. Forgive me for not doing so before."

The dark haired man stood up and stretched his hand across the table.

Draco looked up into Harry's face, apologetic and open.

He wiped his hands with his napkin and placed his right one in Harry's. The two shook it.

"Forgiven," Draco said, a small smile gracing his lips, as it seemed to be doing more easily in Harry's company.

"Just this once," he added, and Harry laughed.


	19. Chapter 19

_The lovely J. K. Rowling owns all of HPverse. Thanks for reading!_

Harry returned to Grimmauld Place late that night, having left from practice straight to the Zabini's appration point to meet Draco. He'd enjoyed dinner (three steaming bowls of vegetable stew with homemade bread) and several games of Exploding Snap that had long breaks in between for the four reminiscing over happy memories of Hogwarts, avoiding any serious turn of conversation, and stories from Luna and Blaise's travels. Harry had enjoyed himself, especially in Draco's company, as the blonde knew jokes even George Weasley didn't. Harry went to bed with a full stomach and a light heart.

He began dreaming soon after his head hit the pillow; now whenever Harry had dreams, they were mostly ordinary or even happy. Gone were the days of a dark wizard filling his mind with nightmarish visions.

_Harry was airborne. One moment he had been turned over on his stomach, pillow under his arm, the next he was on his broom in the day, racing over English countryside. Everything was so bright and green, and Harry continued flying for what seemed like forever. Suddenly it was nighttime, but Harry did not pay the change any mind because he could feel the wind on his face and the magic of his broom under his fingertips. He grabbed the broom tighter but the wood was expanding and growing harder, scalier. The broom was widening and sprouting legs. Soon Harry's hands were wrapped around the neck of a neon orange dragon. He held on as it breathed a short stream of fire and began diving and weaving. Just ahead, Harry could see a gray clump through the clouds, and as the dragon flew closer and closer, the dark haired man's heart leapt. Racing forward was a giant stone castle: Hogwarts! It looked just the way he remembered it! He waited impatiently as the dragon circled lower and lower right at the entrance steps in the courtyard. Landing, Harry slid off the great scaly back and rushed to the looming doors, running into the great hall, which he found deserted all except for Hagrid at the head table, drinking a bucket sized goblet of ale. Harry waved excitedly at his large friend; he hadn't seen Hagrid in months! The half-giant raised his dust bin lid sized hands and waved back. Harry ran down the row of tables but stopped when an overwhelming urge hit him._

_"Hagrid!" he yelled. "Where can I find peppermint toads?"_

_"Alright there, 'Arry?" the man answered, grinning and tugging on his beard. "Why don't you look in the broom closet down the hall?"_

_"Thanks!," Harry said, nodding at this information and waving as he ran back out the Great Hall doors._

_He looked down the right wing and saw one large, wooden door with a brass intricacies spiraling all over it. He reached the door and it creaked open before his hand even touched the handle._

_He stepped inside, but instead of brooms and dust rags, he was back in the room of requirement, like from DA days. It was as if the fiendfyre never touched it. The only difference was that there was a large purple couch and a low table in front of the roaring fireplace. _

_Harry walked to the table and saw a large silver tray filled with gently hopping peppermint frogs._

_The yearning to taste them doubled inside Harry and he reached for one and sat down, chewing happily as the cool, sweet flavor filled his mouth. Harry ate two and then turned and there was Draco, dressed like he had been that morning, sitting beside him._

_"Draco!" Harry exclaimed. "How did you find this place again?"_

_But Draco only smiled as if Harry had not said a word and held out his hand, uncurling his fingers._

_Inside was a peppermint toad, and Harry took it happily, biting its head off. He kept on eating the frogs, his mouth full of them. And Draco just kept looking at him and smiling, watching him eat. And the fire was getting brighter and brighter, almost blinding-_

Harry rose up on his shoulders in bed, awake, moving his tongue around to taste for any trace of mint. The morning light was just beginning to make its pale presence known in the room.

_Blimey! What an odd dream_, he thought, shaking his head, trying to clear away the grogginess. He rolled over and stared at the ceiling, trying to go over all the details.

* * *

><p>He had had the same dream for three nights straight. He couldn't shake them. They were almost identical; only last night, when he got to Hogwarts, he ran straight to the room of requirement, and Draco...well, Draco had still been sitting on that huge purple sofa, but this time, he'd appeared with his shirt off. And well, the feelings in the dream had started switching from the frogs to...<p>

_Thank Magic the dream was still ending in the same place_! And to make matters worse, Harry woke up craving peppermint toads. Harry didn't even like peppermint all that much, but every time he would randomly think of them throughout the day at practice or even putting on socks, his mouth would water. He'd tried gum, but it wasn't helping the craving.

Harry arrived that Sunday evening for the Weasleys traditional Sunday roast. He almost forgot about the dream while surrounded by what he considered his family, gorging on pot roast, Yorkshire pudding, peas, and mash. He was reminded, unfortunately, however, in the sitting room, when Ginny brought out a variety pack of Honeydukes sweets after dinner when he was telling George some of the jokes Draco had shared.

He'd almost licked his lips as he saw a peppermint toad box mixed in with the Cauldron Cakes, Fizzing Whizzbees, Jelly Slugs, and other goods. He could practically smell it, and a brief image of a half clad Draco smiled in his mind's eye.

Ginny saw him eyeing the box and asked if he wanted it.

"Nah," Ron had said, snatching it up and ripping the box open. "Harry's always liked the chocolate frogs.

_That was true_, Harry thought miserably. Chocolate frogs were his usual favorite, but his stomach dropped in disappointment as he watched his best mate begin scarf down the very thing that had been tempting him for the latter part of the week.

"Oh, then," Ginny said brightly, sifting through her sweets. "Here you go then, Harry."

She handed him a chocolate frog, to which he mumbled a thanks before resignedly biting into it. It tasted dull and dry compared to the flavor in his dreams.

* * *

><p>When Harry returned to Grimmauld Place later, he immediately owl ordered a very large parcel of peppermint toads from the Honeydukes shop.<p>

* * *

><p>AN: According to a dream website, here is how to decode Harry's dream...

Colors:

**Green**

Green signifies a positive change, good health, growth, fertility, healing, hope, vigor, vitality, peace, and serenity. The appearance of the color may also be a way of telling you to "go ahead". 

**Orange**

Orange denotes hope, friendliness, courtesy, generosity, liveliness, sociability, and an out-going nature. It also represents a stimulation of the senses. You feel alive! You may want to expand your horizons and look into new interests.

**Purple**

Purple is indicative of devotion, healing abilities, loving, kindness, and compassion. It is also the color of royalty, high rank, justice, wealth and dignity.

**Peppermint **  
>To smell or taste peppermint in your dream, suggests that you are feeling calm, soothed and relaxed. <span>Some aspect of your life is having a soothing effect on you. You are undergoing a positive change.<span> On the other hand, the dream could be saying that you need to be more calm. Don't get too wound up over minor issues. Consider your own personal associations with this smell and how a waking situation may have triggered these same associations.

To see or eat a peppermint candy in your dream, represents a sweet reward. It also denotes festivities, pleasure and joy.

**Toad**  
>To see a toad in your dream, suggests that <span>you are trying to hide your true Self<span>. You need to let the beauty from within shine through.

**Dragon**

To see a dragon in your dream, represents your strong will and fiery personality. You tend to get carried away by your passion, which may lead you into trouble. You need to exercise some self-control.


	20. Chapter 20

_The lovely J. K. Rowling owns all of HPverse. __**The Banquet Part 1**__. Drarry on its way soon. Thanks for reading!_

Draco was on top of a stepping ladder while looking over the shelves, wanting to personally take inventory of what products were selling fastest. He always liked to be heavily involved in his projects, even in the tasks that were a bit more menial. Also, he was subtly listening to the receptionist, a new hire, to make sure she was treating the clients as top priority.

The next week was going by ordinarily. Draco was pleased with the shop's sales, already one of the hot spots on the Alley for upscale wizards and witches. He'd approved the shots of Natasha and sent them to Pucey for finishing the ad design. Mother had gone away for a couple of days with Mrs. Zabini and husband to their villa in Italy. An order of powdered eucalyptus leaves were to arrive tomorrow morning so that Draco could make a new stock of conditioning cream. Harry's practices had doubled as they were to portkey to Braga, Portugal on Saturday for their match against the Braga Broomfleet. Harry and the rest of the team were only allowed off at a reasonable time today because of they were attending his charity banquet tonight. Normally his mother would be attending tonight along with Draco, but she had already made plans with Mrs. Zabini months ago, so she'd paid the cost of the dinner ticket (at the price of fifteen galleons, all guaranteed to go to the Crucioed victims) in addition to a small donation to make up for her absence.

Draco had bought new formal robes for the black and white affair, and Dolly was at the manor, making sure to have it pressed and his shoes shined before he arrived at home. Then he would floo to Harry's before the two apparated to the Screeching Owl Inn, a ritzy hotel often used for social functions such as tonight's. Draco smirked to himself. He would stick it to those wankers at St. Mungo's, showing up at their charity event on the arm of Chosen One. He could hardly wait to see their faces, knowing the dismay that would show even though Draco and Harry's relationship was splashed all over the papers.

_And Harry_, Draco thought to himself. _He would definitely enjoy his night with the dark haired man._ His old rival was easy to talk to, despite their differences,

…_and definitely easy on the eyes when he was cleaned up_, his brain added, remembering how nice he'd looked in that navy jumper.

_And Blaise would be there, too_, he hastily forced himself to steer his thoughts elsewhere. _Whenever the Trio of Gryffindor Goodness became too much for a former Slytherin to bear._

Draco heard the door open and the receptionist greet whoever had just come in. A female voice reached him, declaring, "I am here to see Draco Malfoy."

Draco looked up to see who was asking for him personally and spotted a familiar head of red hair.

"Name, please?" she asked.

"Ginny Weasley," the young women said proudly, looking straight at Draco rather than the receptionist.

"Please, have a seat, and I will confer with Mister Malfoy—"

"No need, Margerie," Draco said loudly, stepping down from a short ladder. "I will see Ms. Weasley."

Ginny quirked a smile as she past the reception desk and met in the middle of the shop with Draco, hands on her hips.

_Hello, Weaslette_, he greeted in his head curiously.

"Why, Ms. Weasley, what can I do for you?"

"I need my hair styled for the banquet tonight," she answered.

_Simple enough_, he thought. Draco plastered on his business smile.

"Of course, Ms. Weasley. If you'll just see Margerie at the front, she'll have you with one of my available team—"

Ginny shook her head, her long locks swaying in her face.

"I want you to do it," she said flatly.

Draco's smile slipped into shock, but he recovered in a flash.

"I am afraid I am occupied with inventory right now. However, I can assure you, Ms. Weasley, that my team is very capable—"

"No dice," Ginny interrupted for the second, something Draco was finding an annoying habit.

"I have a special date at this banquet, and I only want the best touching my hair," Ginny's face pulled into an exaggerated grimace. "And, as loathe as I am to admit it, you are the best in this case. Only you could top Hermione's new doo"

Draco raised an eyebrow, but inside he was pleased that one of the Weasley clan had made such an admission. And she was so very right. He was the best, and he could top it.

_Flattery will get you everywhere_, he thought. _But first, she was going to have to play his game._

"Ms. Weasley—" Draco began.

"Drop the formalities, Draco," she insisted. "Ginny will do just fine."

Draco smirked at her.

"Alright, _Ginny_. I hope you realize that coming into an establishment and demanding to be seen without even the shadow of an appointment is not how I do business. I am a busy man, and nothing binds me to your request. What would possess me to agree?"

The young redheaded woman laughed.

"I'll pay double," she said.

"Double?" Draco questioned. "This must be a rather special date to clean out your life savings."

"It is," Ginny replied, looking at him dead on. "And know that this hardly puts a dent in my Gringotts account."

She smiled sweetly.

"Weasley Wizarding Wheezes is top in the market, after all."

_Touché_, Draco said internally, amused.

"Do you think me so easily bought?" he asked. "It's going to take more than galleons, though you have caught my interests."

Her expression was conspiratorial.

"Of course I would emphasize to Harry just how wonderful you are for doing so, complete with gushing and squealing."

She put a hand on her forehead dramatically and said in a higher voice than normal, "Oh Draco is such an angel! He rushed me right into the salon and we got on like long lost friends. Harry, I do hope this marriage thing works out! I can practically see Draco as family now."

Draco snorted.

"Laying it on thick, aren't we?"

Ginny gave him an exaggerated pout, and Draco dismissed it.

"Look, Ginny. I will be happy to have you set up an appointment with one of my stylists _and_ _pay normal price._ But right now, I have to make a list of potions ingredients I will need before the week is out. Good day."

Draco turned to leave, straightening his robes, as Ginny's mouth screwed up to the side.

"You can dye my hair," she called.

Draco stopped short, and he turned back to stare at her, to measure her seriousness.

Ginny knew she'd found her bargaining chip. Her face was triumphant.

"You used to always comment on my family's "foul" red hair. So dye it," she dared.

Draco paused in thought, weighing his options. He really did want to get that list, as fun as bantering with the Weaslette actually was. _But this was a challenge_. And Malfoys love a challenge.

"Take away your family trademark? I don't want an angry ginger backlash. A counterproductive act, since I'm dating Harry, don't you think?"

Ginny expelled his argument with a wave of her hand.

"I promise I will tell them it was all my idea. I'm up for a change, anyway."

Her expression turned saucy.

"So, do we have a deal?"

"On certain conditions," Draco answered, drawling his voice. "No paying double. This conversation didn't happen. You insisted on the dying, and no objections to whatever I wish to do."

The redhead considered his words.

"As long as you promise not to shave my head or dye my hair fuchsia," she said finally.

He gave her a questioning look.

"I hate the color," she explained with a shrug.

"Agreed," Draco declared.

"Agreed," Ginny echoed.

Draco called for an employee to get a work station ready and a catalogue of all their dye products before leading Ginny to a sink.

"So…, care to tell me who this mystery date is?" Draco asked curiously a he tied the white cape around her front.

"You'll see tonight," was all Ginny would answer, her eyes twinkling.

_Gryffindors were surprising him all the time._

* * *

><p>Harry sat at his assigned table near the front of the stage in the hotel's banquet hall, reviewing his speech in his head. His was one of three. He would give the welcoming speech, the Director of the Crucioed Victims Ward would give the pre-dinner speech, and Neville would give a closing thank you at the end of dinner, a band ready to begin the dancing.<p>

Harry and Draco had arrived a tad early, as Neville had not even shown up yet, but the banquet hall was filling up quickly. Harry had made his rounds greeting everyone before dismissing himself politely to go over his notes.

Draco was at the open bar, back to Harry, ordering them drinks, and Harry looked at him for the umpteenth time that night, remembering his latest dream.

Harry always felt a little silly in his dress robes, feeling much more at ease in his quidditch gear, hands down. However, Draco looked like he'd been born to wear his tonight, confident and poised, every fold of his robe framing his lean, tall figure...

An image of Draco shirtless flashed in Harry's head, and he felt himself blush and drop his eyes, fishing hurriedly in his pocket. He pulled out a peppermint toad box, keeping his hands below the table level, and he popped one in his mouth, chewing blissfully.

This craving had really gotten out of control. He had put an extension charm on his robe pocket and stuffed it with his Honeydukes stash.

He closed his eyes as the cool, minty liquid ran down his throat.

"Harry?"

Harry opened his eyes to see the pale blonde having sat beside him, two tumblers in hand.

"What are you eating?" Draco asked, placing Harry's drink in front of him.

Harry swallowed and held up the box hesitantly.

"Peppermint toads?" Draco read, and his eyes lit up. "They're my favorite!"

Inwardly, Harry gave a groan. _Of course they were._

"May I have one?" Draco asked, and Harry nodded and handed him one from his pocket.

He watched as Draco unwrapped the toad slowly and delicately began eating it. Harrys eyes were glued.

It had to be the most sensual thing he'd ever witnessed, Draco's moistened lips moving back and forth, his pink tongue darting out to catch a little piece that had escaped him, the smell and taste of the peppermint still strong in Harry's nose and mouth. Draco was taking thoughtful bites, as if savoring each piece, oblivious to Harry's staring as he watched the people in the banquet hall milling about.

Harry could feel his body heat rising as the blonde's thin pink lips pulled another piece into his mouth. He would have to adjust himself soon.

_I need another toad!_ he groaned in his head, and went to pull another one from his pocket.

* * *

><p>Draco left Harry at the table, Harry saying he was nervous about his speech and would socialize in a few minutes. Draco had relented, thinking Harry did look a little flushed. And he had been quiet since they had met up.<p>

He chuckled to himself at the irony.

_Harry could face the Darkest Wizard in centuries, but put him in front of crowd to speak and he lost his Gryffindor courage._

So far, Draco had had many polite conversations with the attendees, being congratulated on the success of his shop and well wishes for him and Harry.

The directors at St. Mungo's had yet to approach him, but eyed him across the room, clearly embarrassed to after rejecting him when he was now known as an accomplished Potions brewer.

He had just spotted Blaise and Luna, as each guest was announced before descending the staircase, when a familiar voice spoke behind him.

"My, Mr. Malfoy, you sure have grown since I last saw you."

Draco turned around to see the slightly more aged but smiling face of Madam Pomfrey, Hogwarts healer.

"Madam Pomfrey," he addressed her and bowed.

She had tended to his family's wounds and injuries the morning after the war without even a bat of an eyelash as she rolled up his father's sleeve, and for that, Draco had respected her since. Most witches would have hexed a marked deatheater on the spot.

"How are you this evening?" he asked politely as he straightened.

"Healthy as ever," the woman answered. "And you, Mr. Malfoy?"

"No attacks by a hippogriff lately," he answered, and Pomfrey smiled, remembering how the boy had exaggerated such an injury to the point of her kicking him out of infirmary in annoyance, telling him the next time he came, he better have lost the damn arm.

"And how are things at Hogwarts?" he inquired.

"Same as ever. Students blowing their eyebrows off in potions, breaking wrists in broom flying," she said with a long suffering expression. "Though we are having a bit of trouble keeping the medical supplies up."

"Oh?" Draco replied. "How so?"

"Well Professor Slughorn has come down with a terrible case of Addrowsia, not contagious, of course, but it makes the patient extremely lethargic and is immune to Pepper Up potions. Nothing to do really but let it run its course as it's not dangerous. Unfortunately, he can barely stay awake to teach his classes, let alone brew medi-potions. At the rate the first years blow up their cauldrons, I'll be out of burn salve by next week."

"Surely St. Mungos would be glad to lend you a Potions Master," Draco supplied, his eyebrows knotting.

Pomfrey clucked her tongue as a clear sign of exasperation.

"They won't be able to send anyone for a month, and Addrowsia is a three month long malady minimum. I would brew them myself, but potions are so volatile in medi-magic that I only want to administer professionally brewed ones."

"A month!" Draco exclaimed. "That's ridiculous."

"The downfall of St. Mungos being the only British magical hospital I'm afraid," she said sadly.

"Surely…" Draco stopped, and thought, an obvious solution occurring to him quicly.

"Madam Pomfrey," Draco began. "I am not as proficient as Professor Snape was,—" Madam Pomfrey's face sobered at the decease professors name—"but I specialize in medi-potions as well as cosmetics, especially in antidotes. May I offer my services?"

Madam Pomfrey looked taken aback.

"I did not know your skills fell into the healing field, Mr. Malfoy," she said, astonished.

"Oh, yes," Draco smiled. "I even applied to be a healer at St. Mungo's, but they turned down my application. Not for lack of talent, I assure you."

A dark look crossed her face, understanding his implication, and she huffed, looking around for St. Mungo's staff members.

"Your father?" she asked curtly.

Draco nodded.

She eyed him and said with squared shoulders, "Well _Hogwarts_ would certainly be grateful to you, nevermind the unfortunate events of the war. Are you sure you are not too busy? I know you've just opened your shop. I would hate to inconvenien—"

Draco shook his head at the woman. He cut her off.

"Just owl me a list of what you need, Madam. It will be no trouble. Incidentally, medi-potions and cosmetics are quite similar in process."

Madame Pomfrey beamed at him.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy! I will speak to the Headmistress and certainly see to it that you are thanked," she said.

Draco raised a hand up.

"No need. I am indebted to Hogwarts more than I could ever repay," he said solemnly.

Madame Pomfrey eyes softened with understanding, and the two bowed to each other in mutual respect.


	21. Chapter 21

_The lovely J. K. Rowling owns all of HPverse. **The Banquet Part 2.** Thanks for reading!_

After reviewing his speech two more times and sipping the drink Draco had brought him, Harry had worked his way to Draco, Luna, and Blaise, all huddled together talking. Blaise and Draco were in variations of the same black dress robes with the tuxedo front as Harry was wearing, and Luna wore a floor length, filmy white dress that looked like the tunics he'd seen of the Greek Gods in muggle school when he was young. Gold clasps fastened the dress at her shoulders, letting it drape down.

"It's called a peplos," Luna said when Draco was asking Blaise about wizarding stocks, her great round eyes staring at him. "The tunic you're thinking of."

"How'd you know I was thinking…."Harry asked, amazed.

"Oh, sometimes your thoughts are louder than normal, Harry Potter," she said, as if that was the most sensical answer in the world.

Harry gaped at the blonde witch. Was Luna serious?

"Don't worry," she whispered to him, playing with a lock of her hair. "I won't tell Draco what you were thinking about him earlier."

Harry blanched, but Luna seemed oblivious to his discomfort and changed subjects by showing Harry the spherical golden earrings Blaise had bought her. They looked oddly familiar, almost like snitches but not with the extra point.

"He made them to look like my dirigible plum earrings," she declared loud enough for the other two to hear before beaming up at her husband with her wide eyes, and, after another inspection, Harry saw that they did indeed look like golden radishes hanging off her ears.

"They look, er, nice on you," he told her, still eyeing her hesitantly, and Luna glowed at the compliment.

"Thank you, Harry," she answered. "And you and Draco look handsome, as well."

Harry blushed again at the mention of Draco, and glanced at the blonde man and woman nervously; however, Draco seemed unaware of Luna's statement just before.

"And what about me, love?" Blaise chuckled, grinning at his wife, as he slid an arm around her waist.

"You know you always look handsome," she said plainly, as if commenting on the color of the sky.

At this Draco snorted into his tumbler dramatically, and Blaise gave him a warning glance.

They're conversations were interrupted as the announcement of new arrivals to the banquet were called out.

"May I present with great honor," announced a wizard attendee with a strong, clear voice amplified. "Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister for Magic, Order of Merlin, First Class."

The whole banquet hall bowed as the impressive figure of Minister Shacklebolt came down the stairs wearing white wizarding robes with a black tie and cummerbund.

Kingsley stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked around. Then in his deep voice he called:

"What is all this bowing nonsense," he laughed. "I serve the people, not the other way around. Straighten up, all of you."

Reluctantly, everyone stood erect.

"It is I who bow to you," Kingsley said, all mirth from his tone. And he took a deep bow to the hall, which erupted into applause as he straightened himself again. Harry clapped hard with them. He'd had an embarrassing entrance like that as well, and he understood the Minister's sentiments exactly.

Many rushed over to shake his hand, which Kingsley tolerated until he saw Harry not too far away.

"Ah, Harry!" Kingsley boomed, walking toward him, and the two met with an enthusiastic shaking of hands and a short embrace.

"It's great to see you, Kingsley!" Harry greeted.

"As it is you, my boy!" the Minister replied soberly. "And of course I would be here for such a noble cause."

"Thank you, Kingsley," Harry said, and then looked behind him at his friends, all of which were respectively silent.

"May I introduce my friends to you, sir?" he asked.

"Certainly," Kingsley said in his slow bass. "A friend of yours is a friend to me."

Harry gestured to the Zabinis.

"This is Blaise and Luna Zabini. You, of course, know Blaise, as he works for International Magical Cooperation."

"Mr. Zabini," Kingsley said, taking Blaise's hand and giving it a strong shake. "Fine work you're doing. Looked at the negotiations report just two days ago from your time in Berlin."

"Thank you, sir," Zabini said, all serious toned and nodding his head. "And this is my wife Luna."

"Hello, Minister," she said, quirking her usual Luna smile. "May I ask if you ever rid the ministry of its infestation of Wrackspurts? They decrease productivity ever so much in employees?"

Harry recognized the name and bit his lip to keep from smiling.

"Beg pardon?" Kingsley asked, confusion evident on his face, his hand stilling as it took hers for greeting.

Luna opened her mouth, ready to recite a word for word _Quibbler_ report on them, but Harry intervened by moving onto the next introduction.

"And this, sir," Harry said. "Is my, er, boyfriend. Draco Malfoy."

Kingsley turned to Draco, and Blaise mouthed a quick "thank you" to Harry.

Draco pushed his shoulders back and looked every inch the pureblood he was at that moment.

"An honor, Minister," Draco said as they shook hands.

Kingsley's eyes widened as he no doubt recognized Lucius in the man's face, but controlled his features quickly.

"And it is an honor to meet someone who has captured Harry's attention so," Kingsley said seriously. "You are a lucky wizard, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco's gaze darted to Harry before returning back to the Minister.

"Indeed I am, sir," the blonde stated, at which Kingsley smiled.

After that the Minister's secretary arrived and whisked him off to meet the Head Director of St. Mungo's.

It wasn't too long after that the four turned to see more friends had arrived.

"May I present," the announcer called. "Mr. Ronald Weasley, escorting his wife, Mrs. Hermione Weasley."

Harry turned and grinned as his two best friends walked down the staircase, Ron looking a bit stiff in his crisp dress robes and Hermione pink cheeked on his arm, her new perfect curls half pulled back and dressed in a black satin, cap sleeved gown with an empire waist.

The trio greeted each other warmly at the bottom of the staircase while Blaise shook Ron's hand and Hermione and Luna complimented each other's dresses.

"You look stunning, Mrs. Weasley," Draco told Hermione after appraising her.

Hermione blushed pink and thanked him, and then Harry's mouth opened in surprise as Ron stepped up to the blonde to shake his hand.

"You're a prat, but you're damn good at hair," Ron told him, grinning like he had the first time he'd won the Quidditch match for Gryffindor.

Draco took the half insult/ half compliment more graciously than Hermione or Harry could expect, and soon they were all making the usual small talk. However, the polite conversation was soon interrupted as another couple arrived: George Weasley and his date, Alicia Spinnet.

"Alicia!" Harry boomed after Hermione had pulled her into an embrace. "I thought you were in Greece doing business for Gringotts."

The dark haired woman smiled broadly at him.

"I just transferred to London few days ago. Missed home," she explained.

"Missed me," George countered.

She playfully shoved him.

"In your dreams," she teased.

"Yes, please," George whispered loudly, giving her a loving peck on the cheek.

Friendly hugs and plans for future get-togethers were being exchanged when Alicia's eyes landed on Draco.

The smile slid off her face.

Harry noticed and winced at the memory of Draco calling Hermione a mudblood during his third year. Clearly, George had not updated her from the way her eyes were narrowing.

Hermione was mouthing quickly to Ron, "George hasn't told her!" Harry quickly initiated damage control.

"Uh, Alicia, have you been properly introduced to Draco, mm—my, _boyfriend_," Harry emphasized the last word.

Alicia's eyes snapped to Harry's face, big question marks in them.

Draco, having clearly remembered their last encounter as well and used to suspicion, eased into the situation. He bowed to Alicia.

"Ms. Spinnet, I'm happy to meet you. I am glad we can be introduced on much better terms than the last."

Alicia crooked her eyebrow, but with a slight nod from Harry, she bowed her head and returned the greeting. The group grew more at ease after that, though Draco and Alicia did not speak to each other again.

Fifteen minutes had passed before George looked around the room and asked, "Oi, where's Ginny?"

"She said she'd be here," Hermione stated, a frown knitting her eyebrows together as she looked out over the heads of guests.

"Ah, you know Gin," Ron shrugged. "She's probably still putting on makeup. She's always late."

Just then, another hush fell over the room as the announcer cleared his amplified throat to signal the arrival of more guests.

"May I present," he said soberly. "Mr. Neville Longbottom, escorting Ms. Ginerva Weasley."

"Neville!" the group at the stairs echoed and Harry heard Draco cough into his drink. And down the stairs came a very mesmerized looking Neville with—

"Merlin!" Ron exclaimed. "Is that Ginny?"

Harry and George's mouths opened and closed like fish; Blaise whistled, and the women all gasped. Harry heard Luna whisper "Wow" to herself.

Ginny looked completely different.

Her dress was cut low in a drastic sweetheart design, the black silk skirt with a short hemline in the front just brushing her knees but trailing in the back to her black stiletto ankle boots. But it was her hair that was so shocking. Gone was the violent shade of red that was the signature of all the Weasleys. It has been toned down to a light auburn with thick streaks of black running through it. Her hair hung loose and voluminous around her face, and her make-up was dramatic and all shadows.

The whole banquet hall watched as the two slowly made their entrance, trying to comprehend the force that was now Ginny Weasley.

Neville saw the group when they were almost to the end and proudly held Ginny on his arm, making their way over. Everyone stared at them silently in awe as the two stopped in front, Neville practically glowing with infatuation.

Ginny just put a saucy hand on her hip and smirked.

"What are you all staring at?" she puffed, a wicked smile spreading across her face.


	22. Chapter 22

**_The story has returned, hopefully for good. My apologies for the overdue chapter. Thanks for reading! J. K. Rowling owns all HPverse._**

Hermione, Luna, and Alicia immediately moved closer and gushed at Ginny, the word gorgeous repeated every other second. Harry was still slack jawed while George gave a long, low whistle.

"Gin, your hair!" was all that Ron could manage out, gaping.

Ginny flipped her long two toned locks over her shoulder.

"How did you do it?" Alicia cooed

"Oh, just paid a visit to a dragon tamer is all," she answered and winked at Draco.

"Draco?" Harry turned toward him.

Draco smirked and made a nod to Ginny.

"Of course," he answered smoothly. "Who else could create something that good."

He then redirected his attention back to Ginny.

"And might I say, Ms. Weasley, that you look ravishing." He swept up her hand and kissed it grandly. "You could turn a bent man straight tonight. Right Harry?"

Harry couldn't help but grin at that, knowing how awkward bedroom situations had been between him and Ginny. But he had never seen her look more lovely.

"Absolutely," he answered. "Good thing Neville is already straight."

"Definitely am," Neville reinforced, looking meaningfully at Ginny.

Malfoy bowed to Neville.

"Good to see you looking well, Mr. Longbottom.

"Er," Neville said, suddenly seeing Draco fully for the first time and looking a bit nervous. "Uh, and you, Mr. Malfoy. Ginny told me, well, that you and Harry have marriage plans?"

Harry was sure that was Neville's way of saying politely that he understood the situation.

Malfoy seemed nonplussed. "Indeed," he replied.

"Well, congratulations," Neville said and turned to Harry" "To both of you."

Harry nodded his thanks.

"And to you," Draco said, raising his glass in salute to Ginny and Neville.

Neville's awkward smile turned into a real one and his cheeks colored with happiness.

George then saddled up beside Ginny and put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a side hug.

"Well Mum's gonna kill ya when she sees," he teased.

"And Draco," Harry put in helpfully, smiling sweetly at Draco's pointed glance.

"But hey," George continued. "you'll be the best lookin' corpse in London."

Ginny gave him a playful shove and a sarcastic thanks.

"And we'll kill your mystery date," Ron piped, having recovered from shock and pinning Neville down with a stare. "If he even thinks about disrespecting you."

Neville face lost some of its color and he gulped.

Ron's threat didn't hold for long though as George covered the side of his mouth near Ginny with his hand but whispered quite audibly.

"I think we should be more worried about Ginny disrespecting Neville, if you catch my meaning.

Everyone broke into laughter. Ginny didn't look the least bit reproachful as Neville blushed deeply to his roots.

After a bit more teasing and small talk, Blaise suggested they all move the conversation to the tables and more importantly to the liquor.

Draco and Ginny walked beside each other, discussing some split end preventive oil she had bought at the spa. Harry, on the other side of Draco, could just hear Draco as he dropped his voice for a moment, saying, "Longbottom? Honestly? You could have worn a bag over your head and he would still be tripping over himself for you."

"With all due respect, do shut up, Draco," she said, her voice chipper, and Harry tried hard to keep a straight face, though a small part of him agreed with Draco's statement.

Their party took up two tables so they fused the two together to make one giant circular table, not wanting to split up.

Soon everyone had replenished their drink and Harry was catching up with Alicia while Draco joined the conversation with Hermione and Neville about Neville's latest research in Herbology while he assisted Professor Sprout at Hogwarts.

Arthur and Molly Weasley arrived right before the start of the banquet, making them unable to join the group and saving Ginny from their reaction, at least for the moment. She did still eye them warily across the long room.

The head representative of St. Mungo's ascended the podium minutes later to announce the start of the banquet. As he introduced Harry, the room rang with applause as the dark haired wizard made the short climb upstairs, slipping his notes discreetly into his palm. He thanked everyone for coming, including a long list of important Mungos people and donators, explained the importance and purpose of the Charity and how it started, and then asked for a moment of silence for the patients and their families.

The audience was solemn in their clappling as he descended the podium, reliving memories of the war and thinking of loved ones who had fallen under the Cruciatus curse. Everyone at Harry's table felt relief when minutes had passed and Blaise suggested getting a couple of bottles of faerie wine as i the appetizers were being served.

"I've never had faerie wine," Hermione said, and most of the table, including Harry, nodded to indicate their similar inexperience.

"Well, it's twice as strong as regular wine," Blaise explained as he signaled for a waitress. "But the signature appeal of it is that it tastes different for everyone. It takes on a flavor based on what you crave. It can also change in between separate drinking occasions."

"So it's like the Amortentia potion!" Hermione chimed, looking intrigued.

"Exactly," Blaise answered.

"I've had it twice," George put in. "It always taste like Mum's treacle tart for me."

"I wonder why it's different for everyone," Ginny mused.

"It's enchanted that way to make you drink more," Draco provided. "The Bacchus breed of faerie are revelers. Their whole lifestyle is about making merry. They're the ones in muggle lore that would often catch muggles in their rings."

"Got the right idea it seems to me, yeah?" George laughed.

"Well let's try it out," Ginny said, excitement in her voice. "I'm curious."

The waitress soon arrived with the bottle and poured a small amount into each glass while another waiter tempted them with large plates of appetizers, from snow peas stuffed with crab to melon chunks wrapped in smoked eggplant strips. Ron in particular helped himself to a generous amount.

When everyone's glass was filled, Blaise clapped and rubbed his hands together.

"Alright, now," he began. "I think we should drink one at a time and each person can go around telling us what theirs tastes like"

The group agreed to this plan.

Blaise volunteered to go first, and they watched as he sipped from his glass.

"Delicious," he said as he closed his eyes. "Mine tastes like Baklava. Luna and I had some this January at a tiny shop in Turkey. I've been thinking about it for months."

He reopened his eyes.

" Luna, dear, how about you?"

She took a small sip, blinked her large eyes a couple of times and smiled at him.

"Ah," she said. "Tastes like the pancakes you make for me in bed when you've been gone on long trips." The couple looked at each other lovingly.

"Erhm," Neville said awkwardly and took a tentative drink, not sure how to follow such romance. "The sweet rolls at Hogwarts and nettle tea."

Ginny eagerly took up her glass and took a deep drink.

"Merlin's Beard!" she exclaimed, clear delight on her face. "Fried tomatoes. My favorite!"

Harry was anxious to try his wine after seeing everyone else's reaction, and he eyed Draco curiously as his date was next in turn.

Draco picked up his glass delicately and took a dignified drink. He rolled it around in his mouth expertly and a small smile graced his features.

"Black summer truffle risotto," he announced finally, and Harry mentally rolled his eyes. Only Draco Malfoy's wine would taste like something so upscale.

Then Malfoy licked his lips and Harry's mind went a bit fuzzy. Uh oh. He realized what his flavor would be, if his pocket of honeyduke's sweets was any indication.

He stared at his drink a moment, watching the pale yellow liquid gently slide against the glass, and then braced himself for what he knew would be a strong mint flavor associated with the blonde.

He brought the rim to his lips and let the wine slide across his tongue.

His eyes widened. The taste exploded into his mouth and he felt instantly warm as it ran down his throat. But instead of mint, he tasted Ever Popping Corn and roasted almonds, the popular concessions sold at quidditch matches, and memories of beautiful fall days spent on the quidditch pitch surfaced in his mind's eye. As the taste mellowed, there was also the hint of something metallic, and he tried to hide his look of wonder.

He had only tasted the flavor twice in his life. Once in his first year at Hogwarts and at the moment before he faced death in the Forbidden forest four years ago. The golden snitch, the one Dumbledore had bequeathed him.

"Well?" Ron asked, the table awaiting Harry's answer. Harry could see Draco studying his face in his peripheral vision.

Harry shook his head to clear the flood of sensation.

"Popping Corn and Almonds," he answered, leaving out the snitch.

George and Alicia guffawed.

"A true quidditch player that one," Alicia said, smiling warmly. "You'd think he'd be tired of such fare after having played this long."

He gave a weak smile and took another sip as the last couples shared their flavors (Alicia: orange marmalade, George: treacle tart, of course, Ron: bacon sandwhiches, Hermione: a cross between licorice and fresh raspberries). He was left wondering at the revelation the wine had given him as conversation turned to other subjects.

* * *

><p>The evening continued and soon it was time for Neville to give his speech before dinner was officially served.<p>

They all had more sips of their wine as Neville, with only a few stumbles, thanked everyone again for coming. Then his face then turned quite serious, causing the room to quiet even more as the audience felt the change in tone.

Neville's voice was no longer shaky as he straightened his shoulders for his next sentence.

"The donations you have made to the Alice and Frank Longbottom charity and the fine work from the staff at St. Mungos has given me a great personal that I cannot be grateful enough for, and that is the gift of hope.

He paused and took a deep breath before continuing.

"Hope that, one day, my parents will look at their son and know who he is."

Harry instantly felt a lump in his throat at the words and he glanced to Hermione, seeing her eyes mist over. Ron reached for her hand out of instinct. Then Harry's eyes roamed to Draco, who was looking terribly sober beside him, his shoulders stiff.

Neville kept speaking.

"This is a hope that I want to spread to more families and their loved ones. Our research is expanding every day, magical medicine is only getting better, and I know that one day we will be able to repair the minds lost to us at present. Please honor me and accept my humble gratitude for your support."

Somber applause broke out at every table and Harry stood up with the rest of the wizarding community, watching his good friend descend the stage, his gran having got up to meet him at the bottom where they had a tight embrace.

Harry heard Ginny sniffle. His thoughts turned inward.

Harry and Teddy would never have a chance to be their parents again, but Neville still could, Harry though determinedly.

He watched as Draco took his turn to bow to Neville in respect like the other wizards Neville passed and the thought struck him that Draco also knew the loss of a parent. Harry could not imagine what it was like to grow up with Lucius, but he could identify with missing a father, no matter who the man was. His heart gave a surprise ache. Harry imagined Draco's loss was more synonymous with Harry losing Sirius as Draco had actually spent time with his dad.

The blonde was changing even more in Harry's eyes.

* * *

><p>After dinner, the tables magically parted in the middle to make room for a growing dance floor as guests started to feel the effects of rich food, alcohol, and a need to forget for a moment the more serious moments of the night.<p>

Neville and Ginny were waltzing beautifully as Celestina Warbeck and the Denmark Dwarf quartet began their second song. George was expertly maneuvering Alicia across the floor, dipping her dramatically every five minutes with her laughing her head off. Blaise and Draco were having a discussion about some new Ministry policies and Ron and Hermione had went to greet Ron's parents.

That left Luna and Harry unoccupied.

"Would you like to ask me to dance, Harry?" she asked suddenly after they had both sat in silence for a few minutes, Harry's mind a swirling of thoughts from the evening.

Harry smothered a laugh as he broke out of his reverie, always amazed at Luna's forward nature.

She sat still blinking at him.

"As long as your husband doesn't mind," Harry quipped, smiling at her.

Blaise paused and reassure, "He doesn't" before continuing to explain the finer points on the bowtruckle liver market restrictions.

"In that case," Harry said, standing up and bowing with a flourish. "Would you honor me with a dance, Ms. Zabini?"

Luna giggled and let him lead her to the dance floor, with Blaise calling, "But leave some songs for me, love."

They were shuffling and stepping well enough Harry thought when Luna amazed Harry again with her blunt questions.

"So, what was the third thing you tasted in the Faerie wine earlier?"

Harry stopped dancing and stared at her.

She cocked her head, pale locks spilling farther down her shoulders.

"Harry, we've stopped dancing."

"Oh, right," Harry said looking at his feet and resumed movement.

"Er," he began, his eyes shifting to her face again. "How'd you know there was a third thing."

"I could see some brown in your aura," she explained simply. "That usually is a good indicator that someone is holding back," she explained.

Harry reminded himself never to lie or omit things around Luna. For all her quirks, she was more observant than most.

"It tasted like a golden snitch," Harry confessed after a minute enduring her patient stare.

"Oh," Luna said, her expression full of understanding. "Well that makes sense with the other two flavors."

"You mean because of their relation to quidditch?" Harry provided, still trying to fit it all together.

"No," Luna answered in her sing song, catching Harry's attention again. "I mean yes, but it's not really the quidditch but more what that represents."

Harry wasn't following. As usual with Luna.

"Sorry Luna," I'm a little thick headed tonight." He said sheepishly. "Can you say that a little less cryptically, please."

"Harry Potter," Luna smiled, never betraying any hint of impatience. "You tasted those things because they taste like exhilaration, excitement. What you crave is adventure. A break from routine."

Understanding dawned on Harry.

"Luna, you might be the second cleverest witch I've ever met, you know, with Hermione and everything."

Luna did not seem to take offense as second best and beamed at the compliment. Then her eyes took on a mischievous glint.

"I didn't say the other thing I tasted either," she told him conspiratorially.

Harry's eyebrows raised in surprise. Luna was always honest, no matter what the situation called for.

"Really? What was it?"

"Pudding," she answered, shrugging. "Actually, it tasted more like pancake pudding, but I didn't really think the pudding was important enough to mention since I always like pudding."

She turned her attention across the room then, and Harry followed her eyes back to their table. She was looking at Blaise. Harry didn't have to ask her why the pancakes.

"You know, Harry," Luna began, her voice taking on its rhythmic melody again, still looking at Blaise. "I really am very fond of being married. It's sort of like an adventure every day."

She then turned the conversation to all of the tiny floating Hizzits or something of another in the air, but Harry was slow to catch up, having not missed the hint.

Suddenly a woman's voice cried, "Ginerva!" across the room. Harry and Luna's head swiveled to see Mrs. Weasley stalking toward Neville and Ginny, eyebrows pinched, who moments ago had looked like they'd even forgotten other people existed.

"What in Merlin have you done to your beautiful hair!" Mrs. Weasley hissed, and Harry saw Ginny's posture grow rigid as she prepared for the onslaught.

* * *

><p>Draco was outside in the courtyard of the inn, having wanted a quiet moment of fresh air after all the hobnobbing when he heard footsteps announcing he had company. The footsteps sounded staggered, and Draco turned to find an unsteady Harry in front of him.<p>

After Harry had returned to the table from dancing, he had seemed nervous and a bit distracted, subconsciously taking frequent sips out of his glass, not noticing how it continued refilling.

Draco had been swept away soon after, talking business with Pucey, who had found him after dinner, and Draco hadn't seen Harry in a good hour and a half. Now he imagined Harry must have had a little too much from the look of things.

"Draco!" Harry called jovially, almost running into a bush. "I found you."

"Hello, Harry," Draco smirked. Oh yes, definitely too much. "Having a good time?"

"Well, I'll tell you a secret," Harry said, stopping in front of him, swaying a little as he smiled. His voice turned to a whisper but was still quite audible. "I think I'm a bit sloshed."

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Draco said with as straight of a face as he could manage. "And what brings a drunken boy wonder out to the courtyard?"

"Hahaha, Boy Wonder. You're silly, Draco. I'm not a boy" Harry said, wiggling a shaky finger at him, his eyes not quite focused.

"Man Wonder, then," Draco amended, and Harry crowed at that.

Who knew Harry was such a light weight, Draco thought, amused.

" I came -hic-oh, I came to see you—hic-, Draco. Luna-Loo said you were out here."

Draco's eyes widened, highly entertained at seeing Harry in such a mood and curious as to why he was sought out.

"Well," he countered, making a grand sweeping gesture with his arms. "Here I am."

Harry made steps closer to Draco and swayed heavily enough that Draco reached out to steady him, surprised when Harry leaned into his shoulders. He tried to straighten himself up after a moment and they ended up face to face.

Draco exhaled, not quite sure what to do with Harry in this state, and Harry closed his eyes and grinned. "Mmmm….mint," he murmured. "Always mint."

Draco looked perplexed for a moment but then figured that Harry could smell the mint leaves that had been mixed in his vodka tonic. Concern blossomed in Draco as Harry seemed to be relying on Draco to stand much more now the longer he was out here.

"Harry, maybe I should take you home to—"

But Draco did not get to finish his lips as his lips were suddenly accosted in a surprising and, admittedly, a bit wet kiss.

Draco's eyes felt as big as the full moon overhead as Harry's mouth melted into his. Merlin's beard!

The dark haired man made a little whine and Draco felt a tongue prodding gently at the entrance of his mouth. In complete shock, his mouth granted it without his mind telling him so, and soon a warm and pleasant feeling was trailing down his spine as Harry's tongue rubbed against Draco's.

A sigh escaped Draco unknowingly and his eyelids began to drop as the kiss continued until he at last shook himself into full awareness of the situation and pulled back, keeping firm hands on Harry's shoulders the whole time.

"Harry," Draco said gently to the man, and wait—was that a little regretfully, too. "Your drunk. You wouldn't be kissing me otherwise."

"But you're my …..quidditch," Harry protested with a mumble, clearly loosing functioning abilities.

"Beg pardon?" Draco asked, confused at the comparison. Had he misheard

"Harry?" he prompted, giving him a light shake, but Harry was no longer responsive.

Draco rolled his eyes to the stars above. Looks like he'd be seeing the Saviour home.

He took an even tighter grip on Harry, prayed the journey wouldn't make Harry vomit on Draco's robes, and apparated them to outside Grimmauld Place. Once inside, Draco levitated Harry up the stairs while the house elf kept up a string apologies and mutterings about Harry being the shame of the name of Black.

Draco had Kreacher direct him to Harry's bed chambers, and once inside he took off Harry's shoes and outer robe as best he could by the dim candlelight Kreacher had provided, his wand busy using a charm to hold Harry in place. The blonde got him into bed finally and pulled the covers up to his chest.

Harry let out a tiny snore after being settled, and Draco snorted. Taking a curious quick scan of the room, Draco took in the man photographs hanging and placed around the room along with many framed and signed posters of other quidditch teams. Draco also noticed how red was the main color in the room and muttered something about prideful Gryffindors. His attention turned back to the sleep man as Harry sighed and flung a hand over his chest, pulling the covers up more. Draco realized he now had a rare opportunity to study Harry's face at leisure, and his eyes raked over the brunette's features as he ran a hand through Harry's hair; it was beginning to look a mess again.

Harry's eye lashes looked even longer now that they were against his cheek bones. Draco admired the faintest hint of laugh lines present around Harry's mouth. Draco's thumb accidently traced over Harry's scar, and he quickly removed his hand, feeling as if he had violated Harry somehow.

As soon as the thought was in his head, he smirked. Clearly if anyone had been violated it was him, he thought, his mind returning to the kiss.

It was just a drunken mistake, he told himself. A clumsy, awkward mistake. Once Harry remembered tomorrow morning and died of horror, it would not be repeated again.

However, Draco could not help remember the feeling their tongues rubbing together for just a second. It had been warm and surprisingly pleasant, not at all like the stiff kiss they'd shared at the qudditch match. In fact, Draco had quite enjoyed that little—For the love of magic, he would finish that thought, he told himself sternly before painting his mind blank.

He quickly left Harry to sleep off his wine, bid Kreacher a good evening with reassurances that no judgment was passed on the house of Black for Harry's low tolerance, and apparated back to the Manor.


	23. Chapter 23

**J. K. Rowling owns all of HPverse. I've written an outline out for the rest of the story. There will be at least ten more chapters before the story ends. Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

Harry sat in a conference room in Malfoy Manor berating himself for being a prat for the hundredth time while Percy and Mr. Hern, the Goblin lawyer, continued to reread the draft of the marriage contract, both looking for anything the other might have missed. Harry had forced to sit across the man in front of whom he'd made a completearse of himself for the past two hours.

It was two days after the charity banquet, and upon waking up the morning afterward, Harry had instantly recalled his intoxicated behavior and had hoped that maybe he could either die of embarrassment right then or avoid the blonde as long as possible because, honestly, he didn't know how he was going to amend for trying to snog the poor man. Then an owl had swooped in while he was downstairs starting glumly on the porridge Kreacher had made with a note from Mrs. Malfoy that marriage negotiations were scheduled for next afternoon at two o'clock and that Percy had been contacted as well.

So Harry had arrived with as much dignity as possible the following day and stared resolutely at the wood grain in the heavy oak conference table while Percy handled his side of things and Draco sat across from him, looking regal in a dark navy suit.

Draco had of course agreed that in the event of Harry's death, Teddy should receive all of his godfather's fortune and property. Draco had only asked for one thing on his mother's behalf, if it should still be in Harry's possession, that there was a set of volumes on the Black family history that she would like to have. Harry, though not totally fond of the woman sitting at the head of the table between him and Draco, did not see the harm in relinquishing books he cared nothing about and promised to bring them to her as soon as he could convince Kreacher to part with them.

Mrs. Malfoy had thanked him graciously, "You honor me, Mr. Potter. I greatly value my heritage. They would mean the world to me."

Harry then had snuck a glance at Draco who looked completely at ease, as if he wasn't going to punch Harry in the nose as soon as this meeting was over.

There was a discussion of the Anti-Infidelity charm, which didn't faze Harry as he'd already been told about it by Ron and Hermione. The list of reasons allowing for divorce were also covered, and Harry noticed it was a short list, indeed. Of course, adultery was mentioned, just in case some loophole had been found. Extreme mental illness of one spouse was another, as it endangered the lives of the family members. An attempt on one spouse's life by the other spouse was the third and final reason,_ and not many wizards would risk Azkaban to get out of a marriage_, Harry thought.

Finally at 4: 15, both lawyers agreed that the draft of the contract was complete and airtight, and Percy pointed his wand at the long roll of parchment and said in a clear voice, "Exigo." The scratched out sentences, ink smudges and notes in the margins disappeared, and the final polished version lay on the table.

"Now, Master Malfoy," Hern said in his low, gruff voice, his gnarled ears twitching. "If you would just place your signature here at the bottom…"

Draco pulled the end of the parchment to him and took the quill waiting in Hern's hand, signing his full name in a large flourish.

"Thank you," Hern intoned before bowing to Harry to also sign. "And you now Master Potter."

Draco handed the quill over to Harry silently and businesslike. Their fingers brushed lightly as Harry took hold of it. A shock went through Harry. He bit his lip as he drew back and concentrated on turning the parchment to him.

He signed his full name and thought his _Harry James Potter_ looked quite cramped and sloppy compared to the _Draco Lucius Malfoy_ above it. Hern gave him thanks as Harry handed over the parchment and asked Mrs. Malfoy to sign as witness before he and Percy added their signatures, as well.

"Well, I think that settles everything," Percy said, rolling the contract up. Hern looked at his pocket watch.

Percy bowed to Draco and Mrs. Malfoy, and then shook hands with Harry, and the goblin also bowed formerly and stiffly.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Hern," Mrs. Malfoy addressed the two lawyers. "Please let me show you out."

She gracefully stood from her chair and led the goblin and the redheaded man out of the room, her robes trailing behind her like a winding snake.

Harry watched them go, all too aware that he and Draco were now alone.

He finally had to meet Draco's eyes as Draco stood, his fingers lightly poised on the table top and began speaking. Harry reluctantly stood, too.

"I do find all of the legalities tedious," Draco drawled. "But it is good to have everything settled now. One less thing to think on."

"Er, yeah," Harry managed to say, summoning up his Gryffindor courage. "Uh, Draco may I have a word?"

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"But of course, Harry," he said and gestured toward the door. "We may speak in garden. The weather is beautiful today, and I think we've been cooped up in this dim room for too long as is."

"Alright," Harry agreed awkwardly.

They walked in mostly silence except for an occasional comment Draco would make on an antique or portrait they would pass. Draco did not bring up Harry's display from the other night.

_Probably trying to be polite about what a prat you are_, Harry hissed to himself trying to keep a good distance between their arms as they walked. _Oh, Merlin, how was he going to fix this!_

He thought of his conversation with Hermione and Ron at Dinner the day after the kiss when he shared his embarrassment.

Ron had started shoving roasted potatoes in his mouth faster and faster as Harry told the story, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of anyone kissing a Malfoy.

"And Kreacher told me that Draco even had to help me into bed after," Harry moaned, resting his arms under his chin at their kitchen table.

Ron tried to shoot him a look of sympathy with cheeks bursting with potatoes, but Hermione just let out a snort.

"It's not a laughing matter, Hermione," Harry told her sternly, clearly put out that she wasn't helping. His second oldest best friend just shook her head at him, her curls bouncing to and fro as she did so.

"It was just a kiss, Harry," she said, exasperated in tone. "And well, you know what they say: Drunk actions are sober thoughts."

At this statement Ron had started choking and Hermione pounded on his back as he coughed.

"Just obliviate me now!" Harry had cried, putting his head face down on the table.

Still, Hermione had a point. He had been thinking a lot about Draco lately, but that didn't excuse him coming on to the blonde so blatantly and unwelcome.

Harry refocused his mind on the task at present. They (_Finally!_ Harry thought) made it to the back doors that led to the massive garden surrounding the estate.

* * *

><p>As soon as they stepped into the sunlight, Draco sighed. He did love walking around the garden. Dolly had taken him all around it when he was young, educating him on the names of the flowers and greenery until he had them all memorized. But his attention to the blooming umbrella daisies was not focused for long as he was amused in watching Harry try to come up with an opening no doubt for a conversation about their lip lock. Of course, he observed this all behind a mask of complete oblivion and politeness.<p>

He heard the other boy sigh to the right of him and grinned inside his mind. _He was going to enjoy this._

"Erm, about the other night," Harry finally got out as they passed the honking daffodils who were dozing at the moment. "You deserve an apology."

"An apology for what?" Draco said in the most innocent tone he could manage and turned in time to catch the dark haired man blush.

"You know," Harry said, his eyes looking desperately at Draco. "For well… kissing you."

"Ah, that," Draco answered, not revealing anything by his expression, commenting like Harry had just told him the sky was blue.

Harry must have taken this as quiet irritation because he immediately started berating himself aloud with negative qualities and making more apologies for his actions. Draco finally decided to put the babbling Gryffindor out of his misery. He held up a hand to stop Harry, and Harry's mouth immediately snapped shut of its own volition.

"Let me ask you a question, Harry," Draco began. "Do you really think I am really so offended over one little kiss?"

Harry looked sheepish.

"Well, I," he murmured. "I know it must not have been pleasant for you. I mean I know we have to do this whole marriage thing, but that doesn't mean you want me kissing you and—"

Draco interrupted him.

"Wait," he asked, looking at Harry hard. "Tell me. Was it just the alcohol or did you want to kiss me?"

Harry visibly cringed at this question.

"Uh, erm" he stuttered. "Well, no one would deny that you are pretty attractive, and we've been getting on, you know, alright, and there's been these dreams about you—"

Draco cut him off for the second time.

"Dreams," the blonde asked, unable to hide his surprise. "What? Like sexy dreams?!"

"No, no!" Harry backtracked, holding his hands up, panic in his face. "Well, kinda, but not as bad as you think…"

Harry trailed off in his babbling as a slow smile spread across Draco's face. The brunette looked positively stricken. Draco wet his lips, him mind rushing with interest at these dreams. He sauntered closer to Harry.

"Tell me about these dreams, Harry," Draco ordered in a low, sultry voice. He took a step closer.

"Uh, I , um…" Harry couldn't form sentences as he was clearly confused by this reaction.

Draco knew his expression must look hungry as he took the final step that brought their faces right in front of each other's.

He could hear Harry's quick breathing and felt his own heart hammering as anticipation curled in his stomach like a sleeping cat. Harry looked like he wanted to take a step back, but Draco lightly placed his hands on Harry's shoulders to hold him in place.

"You know," Draco told Harry, looking straight into those blazing green eyes and seeing the fear and wonder in them. "You don't have to get drunk to kiss me."

Harry's mouth parted slightly and his eyes widened. Draco did not let him respond and bowed his head so that their lips came together softly, this time not posed for the camera or caught in a sloppy, drunken moment.

Draco felt Harry sigh against his mouth and he boldly deepened the kiss as Harry's hand subconsciously went to frame Draco's face. Harry began to participate more in the kiss now that his shock has worn off. His lips were warm and soft, and they opened willingly as Draco's tongue met his gently. Draco could taste just a hint of butterscotch and ale as their tongues found a steady rhythm. Draco did not know how long they kissed, but his whole body was starting to tingle and their breathing had sped up so he broke away to give them both time to process and take a few breaths.

"Well," Harry said, a grin twitching his lips, as they stared at each other. "That was a surprise."

And Draco couldn't help but laugh. This marriage was not going to be what he expected.

* * *

><p>After one more kiss, Draco and Harry had continued to walk around the garden, talking and acting like they had not just snogged by the prized roses. They made plans to see each other again at Harry's teammate Tommy Gallagher's birthday party that weekend before Harry had to dismiss himself before he was late for an evening practice. He was almost to the Manor door when Mrs. Malfoy called out his name. Like a guilty teenager, he turned around, trying to keep a straight face. She was walking down the stair case, holding onto the banister with one hand and holding something in a closed fist in her other.<p>

"I am glad I caught you before you left," she said, a warm smile on her face.

Harry wondered if she'd seen them in the garden from one of the many floor to ceiling windows in the Manor.

"I have something for you," she explained as she took the last step and walked to Harry. "Here."

She held out her closed hand to him and opened it, and Harry could now see it was a small, green satin box.

Harry took it gingerly from her hand and curiously lifted its lid. He took a sharp intake of breath at the contents inside.

There, all snug in velvet was a ring. It was a white gold band, the white gold trimming the ring on both sides and small, glittering black diamonds fit in three rows all the way around.

Harry looked up at Narcissa in surprise.

"It was my father's," she said quietly, staring at the ring with soft eyes. "I've been saving it for Draco."

Harry glanced back down at the ring, its diamonds winking at him. _So this is what Harry was going to propose to Draco with._

"It's lovely," Harry said, the importance of this gift weighing on him. He hadn't even thought of what to do about a ring. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she said, meeting his eyes. "I know it will look well on him."

Harry held onto the box, not quite ready to snap the lid shut. He decided to grab this opportunity to at least make a civil though still strained relationship with his future, well he didn't want to say mother, but family member-in-law. After all, he and Draco were not doing so badly together.

"I will try to do my best," he said. "With this marriage, I mean."

Narcissa beamed at him, and Harry noticed how this look made her look less like Lucius to him.

"That is all I could ever ask," she told him, and they bid each other ado.

* * *

><p>AN: A special thanks to Tenshi Yami- Angel of Darkness for the quote, "As they always say, drunk actions are sober thoughts." Couldn't help but use it.


	24. Chapter 24

**J. K. Rowling owns all HPverse. This chapter took forever; sorry. Thanks for reading!**

Harry felt the nervous stir in his chest that he had come to associate with Draco, especially since their moment in the garden, as he walked toward the blonde. Draco was sitting at a small round table in front of the little café on the end of Diagon Alley where they had agreed to meet up at so they could apparate together to Tommy's birthday party. As Harry came closer, Draco looked up from his soy macchiato and a copy of _Bewitched Style_ and gave Harry a warm smile.

Merlin, but did Draco look quite fit, Harry thought.

The man pushed his chair back and stood as Harry returned a shy smile as he took in Draco's outfit. Tommy had specified to dress casually, as the party was being held on his beach front property, and Harry had not had an opportunity to see Draco in anything other than the tailored suits and robes that were his trademark. Right now the man was sporting a handsome pair of slim leg, oxblood colored chinos, a cream deep V-neck that showed off his delicate collarbone, and tan oxfords with a thin matching belt. Very preppy and classic. Draco ran a hand through his swept back bangs, and Harry had to swallow hard before speaking.

"Uh, hey," he greeted. "Been waiting long?"

"Not at all," Draco answered and gestured to the table. "Just came a few minutes early for coffee."

"Are you ready to, erm, go?" Harry asked, not wanting to rush the man.

"Absolutely," Draco answered, tossing a galleon by his empty cup, and the two walked to the apparition zone, arms gently brushing as they walked. Harry offered the blonde his hand with much more ease than he had on their first date, and they both vanished out of sight to reappear at the front gates of Tommy's beach home.

"Harry!" a familiar female voice greeted as Harry and Draco entered the patio area, and a moment later Harry was wrapped in an embrace from Ginny.

"Hey, Gin," Harry returned and was released as Ginny moved to give Draco a friendly hug, as well, while he shook hands warmly with Neville. She'd been much keener on the idea of Draco since he'd made her the talk of the charity banquet.

"You look lovely," Draco complimented her as they pulled back, nodding appreciatively at her intricate side braid, the contrast of the auburn and black working still striking as ever.

"I know," she retorted, an impish grin plastered across her face and Draco laughed at her blatant confidence.

"You're not so bad yourself," she told him, looking him up and down, to which Draco replied cheekily, "I know.

Neville moved to shake hands with Draco.

"Heard you were helping out Madame Pomfrey with medi-potions while Slughorn is ill. Can't tell you how much we appreciate it," Harry heard Neville say. "Please feel free to ask for any ingredients you need from the greenhouses. I would be happy to assist."

"Thank you. I'll consider your generous offer for the next batch," Draco told him, genuine pleasure on his face.

Huh? Harry thought. He hadn't heard about Draco making medi-potions.

"I didn't know you were making potions for Madame Pomfrey," Harry said, leaning closer to Draco's ear.

"Oh, it's no great matter," Draco explained. "I ran into Madame Pomfrey at the St. Mungo's banquet. Slughorn's suffering a bout of Addrowsia, and I just volunteered to replace some depleted stock is all."

Harry smiled at him.

"How selfless of you," he teased Draco.

Draco gave him a withering look that was quickly undermined by his smirk.

"You Gryffindors don't have a monopoly on helping others."

Harry chuckled then caught Ginny appraising their flirtation. She shot him a knowing smile.

The four set off to the bar operating on the huge patio area. Harry grabbed a glass of sangria but Draco stuck with lemon water for the moment, not ready for a drink so soon after his coffee. They secured an empty umbrella-shaded table, while more witches and wizards arrived.

* * *

><p>It was a particularly sunny day, so Draco tapped his wand to one of the forks on the table and transfigured it into a pair of darkly tinted, rectangular framed sunglasses. He was enjoying his company. Ginny had the sense of humor now famously linked to the Weasley name and confidence that almost rivaled Draco's own. Neville, surprisingly, was also a good conversationalist though softer spoken than his counterpart, proving intelligent in a variety of magical fields without pretention. And then, of course, there was Harry. Draco was suddenly grateful for having his eyes hidden from view as they traveled over the brunette beside him.<p>

Harry was at ease, talking with his hands when the subject was more animating, his ruffled locks becoming more tousled as the gentle breeze played with them. He looked gorgeous, the shade blue of his button down bringing out his eyes. He'd left the top two buttons undone, giving Draco a glimpse of the defined muscles in his chest. Draco felt a strong urge to run his hands under all of those buttons and wondered if Harry would kiss him again later that night. Dolly had appeared by his side soon after Harry's departure from the garden and asked if Draco would want his tea at the usual time. He'd said yes and thanked her, but Dolly did not apparate right away. Instead she'd looked up at him with a twinkle in her big, wet eyes and commented, "Dolly likes Harry Potter very much, sir. Master sure looks happy when Mr. Potter comes over. Dolly thinks she likes this very much, too, sir." Then she'd apparated before he could even respond. He'd quite agreed with the house elf's thinking.

* * *

><p>Harry had soon spotted some of his teammates, and the foursome decided to head down to the beach where most of the guests were mingling. After all, they hadn't even seen Tommy to wish him a happy birthday. Harry volunteered to get everyone fresh drinks so the others could already go down. Ginny hung back as Neville and Draco gave thanks to Harry and started down the deck steps to the sand.<p>

"I'm gonna help Harry," she'd called in explanation to Neville, and Harry raised an eyebrow at her as they walked to bar.

"I'm pretty sure I can levitate four drinks," Harry teased her. "I've faced worse."

Ginny didn't smile as she took Harry's arm and directed them to the bar.

"Harry, we need to talk," she said, her voice grave. "I've been waiting for a chance since you got here."

"Um, why does that sound like a bad thing?" Harry asked her, worry drawing his eyebrows together. "Are you and Nev okay?"

"Yeah, of course!" Ginny reassured him. "I just wanted to have a moment before we see Tommy."

Harry stopped walking and turned to her.

"Okay, Gin. Out with it."

Ginny took a deep breath.

"Your ex Terry is here," she let out. "… with Tommy."

"Oh," Harry said, trying to process this information. "I'm sorry. What?"

Clips of memories of Harry and Terry's three months together played in the brunette's head. Most of the memories included them arguing in Terry's flat over Harry never having enough time with Terry due to his busy schedule with quidditch and starting the St. Mungo's charity. Terry just couldn't handle it in the end, needing more attention than Harry could really give.

"Tommy wanted to tell you, but he wasn't sure if it was even going to get serious," Ginny began explaining. "Then you and Draco, you know, started up, so he thought it'd be alright with you."

She faltered.

"Are you alright? Because I know Tommy doesn't really know about you and Draco, but I told him that you seemed pretty over Terry months ago."

Harry sighed, and continued walking, wanting that drink more now.

"I think so," he answered after a beat. The breakup had hurt, but Harry knew it was for the best. And now it didn't matter since he was marrying Draco.

Ginny looked relieved that she'd been right. "But it's still going to be awkward. And, I mean, it doesn't matter, but Terry and I broke up because I was too busy with quidditch. Did he think another quidditch player would be any less tied up?"

Ginny bit her lip and her tone was soft.

"You know, Harry," she started. "I think Tommy probably does have more time."

Harry opened his mouth to protest. She held up a hand.

"Hear me out okay," she cut him off. "Take it from an ex-girlfriend."

Harry closed his mouth.

"It's not just that you had a crazy practice schedule. Or the charity. You were already settled into your life. Terry had a hard time fitting into it, what with your free time split between a godson, Ron and Hermione, weekly Weasley dinners. Terry wasn't your number one priority, and some guys just can't handle that."

"Should he have been?" Harry asked, feeling guilty all over again.

Ginny rolled her eyes, gathering her sarong around her as she crossed her arms.

"Harry, you saved the entire wizarding world!" she told him. "With the exception of Teddy, I don't think you need someone depending on you for a long time."

They went up to the bar and gave their orders to the bartender. Harry levitated his second sangria and Draco's mimosa and Ginny pointed her wand at hers and Neville's.

"So," Ginny asked putting on her chipper voice as they began walking toward the deck stairs. "Ready to have an awkward meeting with your ex and your future fiancé?"

Harry groaned and the two glasses floating in front of him wobbled.

"By the way, as much as I never thought I'd say it," Ginny told him. "I think you and Draco are a good fit. He's got as much going on as you do."

Harry filed that thought away for later as he spotted the other half of their party, Draco's platinum hair glinting boldly in the sunlight, making everyone else look dull in comparison. Neville spotted them first and gave a wave. Harry watched Draco turn around, and their eyes locked. Draco flashed him a smile.

Harry had to force the return a little, nerves about the situation crawling up his arms and neck, like the moments before he stepped onto the quidditch pitch.

_Please let this go smoothly_, Harry thought to himself as Ginny and he approached their dates.

* * *

><p>With his Slytherin attention to subtleties, Draco noticed how tightly Harry was holding onto his glass, even as he made light hearted small talk with Edgar and Janice.<p>

Ginny also seemed distracted, her eyes wondering through the mingling crowd as she sipped her vodka and pineapple juice.

Seizing an opportunity while the others were distracted talking, Draco leaned in closer to Harry's ear.

"You alright?" he asked. "You seem a bit… tense."

Harry gave him an apologetic look and then started to worry his bottom lip.

"Draco, I should tell you," Harry whispered back. "While Ginny and I were getting drinks, she told me Tommy—"

But the two men's conversation was interrupted as they heard Edgar shout, "Tommy! Good to see you, mate! Happy birthday!"

"Oi, you lot! Who's going to give me my birthday spanking!" Draco heard Tommy yell back and another man's deep laugh.

For a reason he couldn't explain, Draco felt like that first day standing with Harry at the brick wall before Diagon Alley, a need to look united, and he found Harry's hand with his own. Harry gave a little squeeze back but didn't look at Draco.

A moment later, Tommy's spiky blonde head appeared, a slightly tipsy grin on his face, with an arm slung around a slightly shorter man's waist. He watched Harry's jaw tense for a second, and Draco took a moment to place the man's square face and shoulder length brown hair.

Recognition flooded him. Ravenclaw. Double charms. Terry Boot, Draco recalled. Made pretty good marks, though not as good as Draco. His hair had been longer in school.

But Draco had seen him somewhere else besides Hogwarts. But where…?

Then it clicked, and Draco traded glance between Harry and the man behind his sunglasses.

He'd seen Boot's photograph before in _Witch Weekly_. It had been a photo of him and Harry, and the cover had read: "Potter and Boot Split: Potter Devastated."

A flicker of jealousy flickered through Draco, and he flattened it quickly. He didn't have a right to feel anger when Harry and him were only just now becoming somewhat of an actual couple, but Draco couldn't help wonder what Harry's politely blank expression was hiding. Anger? Old feelings? Because it clearly wasn't surprise to see his ex in the arms of one of his teammates.

By this time, Tommy had realized Harry was there and looked instantly sober.

"Uh, hey, Harry," he called, a little hesitant. "Hello, Draco."

Draco watched as Terry's eyes flashed on him and Harry before looking away. Draco felt himself slide an arm around Harry. It came off casual, but Draco knew exactly what the action portrayed.

"Hey, Tommy," Harry replied. "Happy birthday, mate."

The mate had sounded slightly off to Draco, but at least Harry didn't have the expression of a man ready to punch Tommy in the gob.

"Yes, happy birthday," Draco reiterated, putting on his best dignified face. "Though it looks you've been enjoying it."

He indicated the drink in Tommy's hand with a smile.

"Uh, yeah, been top notch," Tommy replied, his eyes still on Harry.

"Aren't you going to introduce your friend?" Draco asked, all innocence, and he saw Ginny take a big swallow from her glass.

"Oh, right," Tommy said, looking sheepish. "This is my, uh, boyfriend, everyone, Terry Boot."

Terry nodded at everyone in the group, before he turned to Harry.

"Long time, no see, Harry." He said, the emotions in his face unclear.

"Well, you know me," Harry said with a shrug. "Always so busy."

There was a hidden meaning in there somewhere, Draco could feel it, and he could also tell by Harry's closed off posture that Harry was clearly no longer smitten. He was proven right about the undertone in Harry's statement by the small frown that graced Terry's face.

"I'm sure you are," Terry replied politely after a quick recovery then turned to Draco.

"I read about your new business opening," Terry said to him. "Congratulations. Tommy said I should come down and visit the spa."

"Thank you," Draco answered, hearing the same politician voice his father had used. He bared his teeth in a smile. "I can assure you'll be taken care of."

Tommy looked at Draco uneasily.

The couple soon excused themselves, and Draco gave Harry a look that clearly asked if he was okay.

The brunette nodded and leaned in to whisper, "Sorry about that."

"Don't apologize," Draco reassured him, keeping his arm around Harry. "Though I wouldn't blame you for having a bludger sent Tommy's way for not giving you some warning."

Harry gave a low laugh. "Nah, Tommy's a decent bloke. He's just not really good with uncomfortable situations.

"Besides," he continued, a twinkle in his eye now. "Janice would kill me if I cost us the World Cup by giving Tommy a concussion."

Janice's ears must have pricked at the word "cup" because she rounded on Harry and began talking about a new strategy she'd come up with for their last match before the Cup against the Japanese.

* * *

><p>Teddy had practically pulled Harry's arm off all the way to the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.<p>

Harry took his godson there once a month for a new and hilarious present. Teddy was George's favorite customer, and George would give him free Otters Fizzy Orange Juice whenever the little boy came in.

The magenta haired boy had run around the shop for an hour, taking a particularly long look at the new arrivals, and Harry had had to give Teddy a speech for the hundredth outing that Andromeda would kill him if he let Teddy have a Fanged Flyer.

Finally, Teddy had settled on an item, and Harry scolded George when he caught him trying to sneak the flyer into Teddy's bag before they left.

As they stepped out into the street, Harry felt relief that Ginny had been out so she couldn't ask him again if he was okay about the whole Terry/Tommy situation. Harry was over it after the initial awkwardness and had more important things with which to worry himself. He held Teddy's hand as they headed in the direction of a small vendor where Teddy liked their takeaway mini-steak pies.

"Oh, oh, look Uncle Hawwy! That's Dwaco's shop! Let's say hi," Teddy exclaimed, jumping up and down.

Harry looked in front of them and saw the familiar dragon winding its way across the shop's sign. It would be nice to see Draco, Harry thought, a smile tugging at his lips, but he didn't want to interrupt him at work. Harry bent down by his self-claimed nephew.

"I dunno if we should, Tedders," Harry told him. "Draco's probably busy."

Teddy looked crestfallen.

"Pleeeaaase, Hawwy," Teddy pouted. "Just fo' one minute."

Harry almost laughed at those serious little eyes looking up at him and gave a relenting sigh.

"Oh, alright," he gave in, standing up. "But only a minute."

Teddy immediately perked back up and nearly tripped over his robes as Harry and he walked to the doors.

"Hi," he greeted the receptionist when they were inside. "I hate to bother him, but is Draco free by chance?"

The receptionist beamed at him and Teddy.

"I'm sure he could spare a second, Mr. Potter," she told him. "If you two will have a seat, I'll go ask for him. Do you need anything while you wait?"

"Er, no thanks," Harry replied, and he led Teddy to a comfortable chaise lounge while the woman disappeared to the spa area.

A minute later Draco was walking toward them, a warm smile on his face, dark robes billowing behind him.

"What a nice surprise," Draco called as Harry and Teddy stood.

"Dwaco!" Teddy crowed, and Draco bent down to pick him up, giving the boy a big hug once he had him in his arms.

"Nice hair," Draco said, ruffling Teddy's violently bright locks with one hand while using the other arm to hold the child up.

"Afternoon, Harry," he greeted, his attention off a giggling Teddy for a moment.

"Sorry to bother you like this, Draco," Harry apologized. "We just wanted to come in and say hello."

"I'm not bothered at all," Draco said sternly, waving a hand at Harry dismissively.

"We came to visit you," Teddy cut in. "Uncle Hawwy took me to the joke shop."

Draco made his eyes open wide.

"He did, did he?" Draco asked warmly. "And what did you get?"

"I'll show you," Teddy volunteered and wiggled his way out of Draco's arm to get to this bag still on the chaise.

He pulled out a cylinder container with bright lettering and label. Teddy's tiny hand unscrewed the cap and showed Draco a bubble wand attached to it.

"They're joke bubbles," Teddy said proudly and blew a big breath into the soapy substance coating the bubble wand.

They all watched as one large, bright blue bubble pushed its way out of the wand and floated into the air.

Once it was hovering over all of their heads, it popped, and a squeaky, disembodied voice asked, "Why did the vampire go back to the healer?"

There was pause that left the three wondering the answer before the high voice was heard one more time.

"Because he still had a _coffin_."

Teddy giggled and both men joined him in chuckling.

"Isn't it gweat!" Teddy said, beaming.

"Very funny," Draco assured the boy, and then his eyes sparkled as he continued, "I know one from a joke book I had as a boy. Want to hear it?"

Teddy nodded his head eagerly. Harry looked curious.

"Alright, here goes. What did one werewolf say to the other werewolf?"

Harry's eyebrows knitted together in worry. He'd never heard a werewolf joke that he'd ever found funny. He was about to interrupt when Draco continued.

"_Howl _are you?" he finished, wagging his eyebrows, and Harry sighed in relief as Teddy laughed.

But the boy's face turned serious as quickly as it had been mirthful.

"My daddy was a weywolf," Teddy told Draco proudly, pushing his little shoulders straight and back.

Draco's face became serious, too.

"I know," Draco told him. "And he was a very brave one in the war. A good teacher, too. Taught in my third year."

Harry couldn't help but look at Draco in awe of how much the man had changed from his father's opinions, and his eyes felt warm when he saw just how pleased Teddy was to hear compliments about Lupin.

"Do you wanna have lunch with us, Dwaco?" Teddy asked after a small pause.

Draco's face softened. "I'd love to, but I've got too much work here at the salon, and I have to finish packing a crate of potions I'm taking to Hogwarts in a few days. But I'll tell you what, I'll bring you something back from Honeydukes after my trip. What sweets do you like?"

Teddy's momentary disappointment was replaced with bright eyes as he heard the promise of a treat.

"Sugar Quills," he answered immediately, and Draco promised him enough sugar quills that Teddy would need an Anti-Cavity potion after eating them.

Before Harry and Teddy could bid Draco goodbye and let him get back to work, Draco stopped him while Teddy was distracted by blowing another bubble in the doorway.

"Harry," he said in a low voice. "I had meant to ask earlier, since you get a break after your match this week, would you like to come with me, to Hogwarts, I mean."

Harry paused to think about the offer. He hadn't visited Hogwarts in three years, always seeing Hagrid now at Christmas with the Weasleys. He would like to see it, now that the castle had been completely restored from the war.

"That'd be great, yeah," Harry said. "It'd be nice to see the staff again. Just owl me."

Finally Harry and Teddy (furiously waving) left the Dragon Tamer and started back down the Alley.

As they walked, an idea was forming in Harry's mind that surrounded the little velvet box sitting on his nightstand at home.


	25. Chapter 25

**J. K. Rowling owns all of HPverse. You knew this was coming. Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

Draco and Harry were in Honeydukes, perusing the shelves of sweets, a box full of sugar quills for Teddy tucked carefully under Draco's arm.

The blonde had an appointment with Madame Pomfrey and the Headmistress in the late afternoon, after the students were finished with classes. There were only two weeks left in the term, but with exams approaching, students were more accident prone and susceptible to illness from lack of sleep and stress. Madame Pomfrey had written in her letter her "many thanks" and given an invitation to Draco and "dear Mr. Potter" for dinner in the Great Hall that evening.

Harry had showed enthusiasm at being able to partake in some voluminous Hogwarts fare again, and Draco had written an acceptance of the invitation. Now they were in Hogsmeade, having decided to come a couple of hours early to enjoy being back in Scotland, and Draco had promised Harry lunch at the Three Broomsticks to celebrate his win against the Japanese National Quidditch Team. They'd spent a good half hour sampling different products and entertaining each other by eating exploding bonbons, pepper imps, and fizzing whizbees. Draco also picked up a box of Glacial Snow Flakes for his mother and a deluxe box of peppermint toads for himself. Harry eyed them with a smile on his face at the register, murmuring something about "damn dreams," and the blonde raised an eyebrow at him as he paid Mr. Flume. Harry bought a variety box for the Weasley family and some Toothflossing Stringmints for Hermione. Mr. Flume wished them a happy evening, and soon the pair was strolling down the street, their bags of confectionary treasure bouncing against their legs.

They popped into the Three Broomsticks soon after, the tavern just as cozy as it was back in their student days. They found a table near the back and promptly picked up their menus, all those sweets leaving them craving some food with substance.

Draco skimmed the menu before giving it a decisive tap of his wand while muttering, "Vegetabilis."

The parchment glowed for a moment, and all of the items that were vegan became highlighted in green, their ingredients spelled out for Draco.

Draco was delighted to find that the leek soup's broth was vegetable based, and he explained the spell to Harry who was looking at Draco's menu curiously.

When Madame Rosmerta stopped at their table to jot down their order, both men ordered the soup, Draco pairing it with a humus and spinach pita while Harry chose a roast beef sandwich, and of course, a pint of hot butterbeer.

"So tell me," Draco drawled, sitting straight in chair, when Madame Rosemerta had went to put their order in. "How does it feel to be going to the World Cup."

Harry's face cracked open in a grin Draco could only parallel with the ones Harry wore around Teddy.

"Amazing," Harry answered. "And a little unbelievable. I never thought I'd get this far when I tried out for the Arrows."

"I must say I was a little surprised when I learned you'd went pro," Draco began and then quickly explained himself as Harry had an affronted look on his face, surely ready to throw out how he'd always beaten Draco.

"What I mean," Draco started again. "Is that I'd always been under the impression that being an auror was your life's goal, what with all your good-doer, Gryffindor ways. The ministry would have made you Head of Magical Law Enforcement."

Harry laughed at the last bit.

"Well, I did want to be during school," Harry replied, leaning back into his chair. "But then, after the war and everything, I decided that I had had about as much fighting in my lifetime as I wanted."

"Plus," Harry continued, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "I have never full trusted the ministry since Umbridge."

Draco swallowed hard, remembering his days in the Inquisitorial Squad. His father had insisted Draco join.

"Harry, I'm so sorry," Draco started to make amends, but Harry wouldn't hear of it.

"It's in the past, Draco," Harry said dismissively. "Anyways, I love my career. Flying is one of my favorite experiences. Most wizards grow up on brooms, but I grew up with muggles. When I'm up in the air; I've never felt freer."

"I'm acquainted with the feeling," Draco replied. "Mother could never get me down when I was younger. I broke my arm on three different occasions before I was ten, all broom incidents."

The two men passed the time, talking about trivial things, pausing to take bites once their food arrived.

"What kind of music do you like?" Harry asked, blowing on his soup before sipping it from his spoon.

Draco took a drink of his red currant rum before answering.

"I'm quite fond of the Bobkov Brothers right now. They're very low key, just three brothers with strings and drums. But when I was younger, I liked it a lot louder. Went to see the Wailing Banshees with Blaise the summer of our fifth year. And… ," Draco sighed as he closed his eyes before continuing his admission. "I was also really into Muggle punk bands at the time."

Harry nearly spit out his butterbeer. Foam sloshed on the table and magically vanished with a cleaning charm.

"No way!" Harry cried. "Like who?"

"Oh, you know," Draco said off hand, amused at Harry's wondrous expression. "Richard Hell and the Voidoids, the Clash, the Dead Kennedys, the Dead Boys, and Black Flag. The Clash and Black Flag, mostly. I had Dolly magically rig my phonogram so that it would play muggle records."

"What did your parents say?" Harry asked, leaning in.

"Oh Father was furious with me when he discovered my collection. He incendioed every single one of them, grounded me for a month, and gave me a long lecture on the inferiority of muggles and how I had disgraced my wizarding heritage by indulging in "filthy novelties."

"That's terrible," Harry growled, shaking his head at Lucuis' attitude toward muggles. Draco resisted the urge to defend his father's parenting methods, having worked hard in therapy to learn how to disagree with his father's opinions.

Draco took a swallow of rum before he spoke again.

"Yes, Vincent and I were devastated when we lost my _Damaged_ album-," Draco stopped short, realizing whose name he said, a pain filling his chest like smoke.

"You alright?" Harry immediately asked when he saw Draco wince, his eyebrows knitting in concern.

Draco knew he had to change direction in the conversation before Harry asked anymore. He had come to terms with his father's death, but Draco did not see himself healing over Vincent soon. _I am not going to talk about this in the bloody Three Broomsticks_, Draco thought to himself.

"Rum just went down the wrong pipe. What about you, Harry," he asked, trying to cover up the swell of his grief. "What bands do you like?"

Harry seemed satisfied with the answer, though his hand had reached across the table to cover Draco's. Draco found the warmth of the brunette's rough hand soothing.

"The Weird Sisters, of course," Harry answered. "Though the Wonkies are a close second…"

The food was cleared away, and their drinks were refilled as the two wizards continued to talk until it was time for Draco to meet Madame Pomfrey. Harry never had removed his hand, and their fingers interlaced now as they walked toward Hogwarts gates. A massive figure could be seen waiting for them.

"Hagrid!" Harry called out and gave a wave as they were almost upon the gates.

"Harry, my boy!" bellowed Hagrid. "Heard that you're going to the World Cup. I's right ruddy proud for ya."

Draco stared up at the man as he continued to talk jovially to Harry, his huge hands waving an umbrella around the gate bars until they opened. Truth be told he was a bit nervous, as he or his father had almost cost the gamekeeper his job a couple of times.

As the gates opened up, Harry let go of Draco's hand and rushed to give Hagrid a hug. The man still stood a full four feet taller than Harry, and Draco could not imagine what it was like to hug him as a small child.

Hagrid released Harry, and Harry looked back at Draco, who was still a few steps back.

"Hagrid, I'd like you to meet my boyfriend, Draco Malfoy," Harry said, coming to Draco's side.

Hagrid's great bushy eyebrows raised in surprise as he stared at the blonde.

"M-malfoy, did I hear you say, 'Arry," Hagrid asked in a low voice. "The Slytherin."

Draco could see Harry's face when he realized the memories that Hagrid would have of the Malfoy heir. Draco knew what was needed.

He bowed very low to the ground, having been taught that, in old tradition, the lower you bow shows how great the offense was.

Draco raised his head to speak in the formal way.

"Mr. Hagrid, please let me make apologies for my grievous behavior as a youth. I treated you, my teacher at the time, without the respect that is due you and frankly made my time at Hogwarts difficult for you. I beg for your pardon."

The half-giant's eyebrows rose even higher, and he looked like he didn't quite know how to respond. Then, before Draco could react, Hagrid had grabbed his arm and was shaking it hard.

"I's alright, there, Mr. Malfoy,"Hagrid said, his face beaming. "I know I's hard to go again' your raisin'. But if Harry deems ya fine enough to court ya, then you're fine wit me."

The three walked together through the grounds. Hagrid and Harry doing most of the talking while Malfoy rubbed his sore arm.

"You know, Harry. I been thinkin' bout settlin' down meeself," Hagrid was tellin' the brunette beside Draco. Olympe and I been real serious fo' a year now."

"That's fantastic, Hagrid," Harry said, clapping Hagrid on the back, or well, the lower back.

"Yeah," Hagrid replied, beaming. "Have to leave my hut though. Olympe says if she moved here, she'd wanna live in the castle."

The two friends parted with Draco after he'd been escorted to the doors. Harry had made plans to have tea with Hagrid while Draco conducted his business in the hospital wing.

As their backs retreated, Draco stood in front of the doors alone. He readied himself with a sharp inhale as they began to creak open for him, the wards recognizing him as a non-threat. As he stepped in the giant foyer, he smiled to himself. He felt instantly at home again.

* * *

><p>At dinner time, Draco and Harry sat at the now extended staff table right before dinner. Draco sat by Neville with Harry on his other side, while Harry sat by Headmistress McGonagall.<p>

There had been a great commotion when the couple had entered the Great Hall together, some students whispering and pointing as they whirled around to crane their necks while braver ones left their house tables to request autographs from and photographs with the quidditch star. Some giggling girls had even asked for Draco's autograph, him chuckling to himself as they went on and on about his products they had tried. He'd asked one girl what her name was, and she'd looked star eyed, muttering, "You're beautiful," before blushing and running away.

The Headmistress had not let it go on long, reprimanding the students for bothering the guests and having them all sit down. The greetings at the staff table had been many and welcoming as the two took their spots at the empty plates.

The Headmistress had given the traditional dinner speech, introducing Harry and Draco to loud applause. A chorus of "Go Appleby Arrows!" rang across the room. Harry blushed deeply, having awkwardly given his autographs. McGonagall had fixed them all with a stare behind her square glasses, and dinner had commenced.

Draco was relieved to see that his requests to the house elves in the kitchens had gone through as a variety of vegan friendly food appeared around his plate. His part of the table looked like a small oasis compared to the plates and plates of poultry, beef, and pork surrounding everyone else. Draco helped himself to a small French lentil casserole and boiled carrots while chuckling as Harry filled his plate with everything in sight.

"Wha?" Harry had asked innocently through a mouthful of trifle as Draco gave him an appraising look.

"We just ate a couple of hours ago," Draco teased.

Harry swallowed and patted his flat stomach.

"Gotta keep my energy up for the Cup," he answered cheekily.

Harry and McGonagall fell into deep conversation, as Neville was easygoing with Draco, starting up little conversations between filling up on sweet rolls.

Draco simply spent the majority of dinner looking around and admiring how the castle looked completely untouched after the renovations. He stared at the enchanted ceiling, which revealed a beautiful clear night sky, and felt Harry's hand slip into his under the table. Draco lazily ran his thumb over the top of Harry's hand and knuckles, feeling content.

* * *

><p>They both needed to get back soon before the hour grew too late, but Harry insisted that they take a stroll around the grounds. He was glad when Draco agreed. They had just finished walking around the lake, the giant squid swimming gently to and fro, the water rippling out to the edges.<p>

Harry could feel sweat trickling on the back of his neck as they made their way in the moonlight, feeling almost as nervous as when he would have a close call with Filch at night under his invisibility cloak.

_Stop freaking out, you prat_! Harry scolded himself. _It's not like he's going say no._

Still, though, Harry was anxious about the proposal. What if Draco had wanted something with a little more glitz and glamour? What if Harry's idea would seem lame?

But Harry had felt that something private would be the best choice, so he straightened his posture and began walking with more purpose once he could make out their destination in the dark.

"Hey, er, want to go down and see the old pitch?" he asked, trying to make his voice sound casual.

Draco consented, and they carefully picked their way downhill, the box in Harry's robe pocket feeling heavier and heavier in Harry's mind the closer they came.

The pitch was eerie with its empty stands and no team flags flapping in the breeze. Draco had turned to head to the stairs leading to the seats, but Harry had continued to pull him to the center of the grounds, where the captains usually shook hands, not answering Draco's half-protests.

"Wow," Draco had breathed when Harry had stopped walking and the blonde had taken a moment to look around. The pitch was bathed in the silver rays of the moon, contrasting deeply with the shadows of the stands' towers that loomed all around them. The only sound was the chirping and creaking of the nighttime animals in the forest nearby.

Draco turned himself around, getting the full view, and Harry watched his reaction in pleasure.

"Isn't this amazing, Harry," Draco called, his back turned to the man. "I've never been down here alone before like this. Have you?"

When Draco turned around, his face was illuminated by moonlight, and Harry felt his mouth go dry just looking at him and how his impossibly blue eyes cut right through Harry's chest. He dropped to one knee then and there.

Draco immediately took a step towards him in concern. "Harry, what's the matter? Did you hurt your ank—"

Harry stopped him with a shaking raised hand, and Draco stared at Harry, confusion plain on his face, as Harry began rummaging through his robe. Harry watched comprehension dawn on the blonde when Harry held out the small velvet box and opened the lid.

The pitch seemed to close in on them, and all Harry could hear was Draco's sharp intake of breath when he saw the ring, its diamonds glinting and dazzling in the full immersion of the moon.

"Draco," Harry started, having rehearsed this speech into the morning hours the night before. "Our courtship is complete as of this night. I kneel before you, here, on this pitch in a place where we once met as rivals, but now I wish to ask you to join me here not only as friends but as a husband."

Harry swallowed, trying to soothe his dry throat as he felt his hands steady.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy," he said finally. "Will you honor me by accepting this ring?"

"Harry," Draco said gently as he stood in front of the kneeling man. "Stand up, please."

Harry straightened himself, the ring box still held between them as they looked into each other's eyes. Draco hesitated for a moment and then ran a hand through Harry's hair, his face all seriousness.

"It is you who honors me with the asking," Draco answered, his voice growing even softer. "Of course, I accept."

Harry didn't hold back a moment longer. He crushed his lips to Draco's fervently, and Draco's mouth opened at once to meet Harry's, his hand tangling in Harry's hair, the ring box still pressed between them as their bodies tried to be as close as possible.

* * *

><p>An hour later, as soon as the two men passed through the warded gates of the school, they were ambushed by flashing cameras and throngs of press hurling questions and commands at them.<p>

In his surprise, Draco had placed his left hand on his chest, trying to steady himself from the onslaught, and a moment later one very observant witch cried out, "Look! He's wearing a ring!" And the cameras snapped at an even more furious speed.

"HARRY! DID YOU POP THE QUESTION?"

"DRACO, HOW DID HE DO IT?"

"WHEN'S THE WEDDING?"

"_CONJURING CHRONICAL_, OVER HERE. CAN WE GET A COVER SHOT?"

The questions came from all directions. A reporter in front could be heard over the din, "Mr. Potter, Mr. Potter! Are you really engaged?"

Harry slid his arm around Draco and looked at Draco with a small smile, the blinding camera bulbs leaving spots dancing before his eyes. Draco smiled back a real genuine smile.

"Yes!" Harry announced for everyone to hear and faced the crowd again. "We are."


	26. Chapter 26

**J. K. Rowling owns all HPverse. Warning: this chapter contains mature content! Thanks for reading, as always!**

Harry and Ron were walking up and down Brighton Pier, a muggle place Hermione liked to take Ron when they were visiting her parents. Ron had suggested going there when Harry had fire called that he wanted to meet and talk. It was two days after Harry and Draco's engagement had been plastered all over the papers; apparently a customer in the Three Broomsticks and leaked the information that the pair were in Hogsmeade to several news establishments.

So here the two best mates were, eating their wet chips soaked in vinegar and staring at the water and the tourists. The sky was looking a bit grey, and Harry wondered if they'd be caught out soon.

"So, you're engaged now," Ron said, leaning against the railing in front of one of the food kiosks. "Ya nervous?"

Harry laughed.

"Absolutely terrified," he admitted, turning to face the water and hunch over, his elbows resting on the support.

"How did you feel," Harry asked, turning his head to the side to look at his freckled friend. "You know, when you asked Hermione?"

Ron shrugged, turning to mimic Harry's posture.

"Well, it was a bit different with us, but to tell ya the truth. I thought I was going to wet himself when she went to the ladies room, you know, right before I put the ring in her champagne flute and all."

The too both laughed again, while a seagull called out overhead.

"You know, Ron," Harry told him, his face all earnestness now. "This whole marrying Draco thing is a bit unconventional, I'll admit, but I think I'm really going to try and make this work. I mean we've been getting on great, so I don't see any reason for us to not continue."

Ron reached over and gave Harry a pat on the back.

"Well Hermione and I support whatever you decide one hundred percent, mate," Ron told him. "We want to see you happy, Harry. If you think you can be with Draco, then by all means, give it a go."

Harry nodded his head, soaking up his friends words before giving the ginger a small grin.

"You know you're gonna be my best man, right?" Harry said.

"Too right!" Ron exclaimed, his grin matching Harry's. "I'll punch a git in the face if anyone else would try to take my place."

The two men pushed off and continued their stroll toward the attractions, Ron always fascinated with the ferris wheel.

"Thanks, Ron," Harry said, giving the man a serious expression. "It's good to know you've got my back."

Ron play punched him in the arm.

"You're welcome," he told his oldest schoolmate. "After all, you've always had mine."

* * *

><p>Later at the Burrow, Harry stayed last at dinner, hoping to catch Mrs. Weasley, who was just spelling the dishes to their washing.<p>

"Er, Mrs. Weasley," he inquired nervously, coming up behind her. She didn't turn around, but answered, "Yes, Harry? What is it, dear? If you give me just a moment, I believe we have some left over pie if you want."

"Oh, no thank you," Harry said quickly. "I'm stuffed already."

"Hmmm," Molly made a pleased sound.

"It's just that I wanted to ask something," Harry tried to form the words.

"Anything, love!" she exclaimed and turned to face him, her apron wet with suds.

Harry shuffled his feet and pushed his glasses.

"Well, I was wondering, since I'm engaged now and all, could, um, Draco possibly come by for dinner sometime…with me?

The dishes had stopped their assembly line of dunking into the soapy water and being scrubbed with a cloth. They hovered in the air, as Harry watched a perplexed and surprised looking Mrs. Weasley blink at him. A kitchen knife was dripping suds on the counter. Harry gulped.

"Right," Harry said, backing away slowly while Molly still seemed immobilized. "I think I hear Hermione calling me. Would you excuse me, Mrs. Weasley."

Bowing out he walked as fast as he could out of the kitchen. He'd just remembered where Ginny had gotten her temper.

* * *

><p>Narcissa Malfoy caught her son as he was walking out of his bedroom.<p>

"Oh, Draco, I've ordered the salmon for the engagement party? Do you think that was a good choice?" she asked as he stopped in front of her, straightening his robes.

"I'm sure that will be fine," Draco answered. "I told you. Just no veal. You know how I feel about veal."

His mother tutted as they both continued walking down the western wing's hall but made no comment.

"Oh and the paper lanterns arrived this afternoon. I would like for you to take a look at them," she pressed, wanting to get these details out of the way.

"Mother," Draco sighed as they were approaching the staircase. "I'm afraid I can't right now. I have dinner at Harry's tonight. He promised to try my tofu."

Narcissa's nose wrinkled at the word, but she smoothed her expression before Draco could see it. No matter what her son had decided, she was not cut out for veganism.

"I'm glad to see you too getting closer, what with the wedding deadline fast approaching. Uh," she exhaled deeply, putting her fingers to her temples and rubbing them. "I don't even want to think about planning the wedding until after this party is over. You know you could be helping me, Draco."

"Oh, Mother," Draco teased. "I know how much you really do enjoy these soirees. Now I really have to go."

He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and started down the stairs.

"I love you," she called, amused at how eager her son was to be in Harry's company.

"I love you, too!" he called before heading out the door, the house elves closing it gently behind him.

Narcissa took a moment to bask in satisfaction that her scheming was working better than she'd dared hope and then started walking back to her study to examine the designs the coordinator had drawn up for the garden engagement party.

* * *

><p>Draco had had trouble convincing Kreacher that he did not need help in the kitchen that night, so much so that Harry had had to order Kreacher to polish the silver upstairs and to not come down until he was called. Other than that, however, dinner had gone well, with Harry admitting that the orange glazed tofu and asparagus the blonde had roasted was "pretty good."<p>

Now he was sitting beside Harry in the parlor of Grimmauld Place, full and comfortable on the mahogany sofa, sipping merlot. The brunette had his head leaned back while they both stared into the gently crackling fire, his glass free hand softly brushing Draco's knuckles in a rhythm.

After some minutes had passed in silence, Draco drawled, "Mother's is all of a flutter about the engagement party. I'm pretty sure she's doubled the guest list since yesterday."

Harry let out a groan.

"I'm sure she'll be owling you any day about what cufflinks you're going to wear," Draco teased.

Harry gave a low chuckle and set his wine glass down, taking Draco's, as well. To Draco's surprise, heproceede to pull on Draco's hands to bring him closer so that he could get his arms around the blonde.

"Come here, you," Harry practically purred, and Draco was soon nestled practically between Harry's legs.

"My, my, what's gotten into you, _Potter_? Draco said, his eyebrows raising, trying to emphasize the man's surname like he used to in school.

"You talk entirely too much, _Malfoy_," Harry countered, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

"Then maybe someone should get on with it and kiss me," Draco challenged.

As soon as the statement was finished, Harry leaned in and captured Draco's lips with his own. A thrill ran down Draco's spine as he tasted the warmth of the wine in Harry's kiss. Draco's hands quickly found themselves buried in Harry's dark hair while the brunette's arms were wrapping around Draco's waist, pulling him closer. Their tongues caressed each other's, though soon Harry's kissing hardened, and his tongue was slipping against Draco's faster. Draco felt his breathing speed up and become heavier, and he broke away to take a breath before beginning to trail kisses along Harry's jaw and down his neck. He sucked on Harry's earlobe, pleased when Harry hissed at the sensation. When Draco got to the skin where the neck and shoulder met, he gave it a quick nip before sucking it into his mouth.

Harry exhaled loudly, and his hands gripped Draco's hips firmly as he pushed the blonde away and down on his back, Draco letting out an impatient sigh. But soon Draco had no room for complaining as he used his hands to scuttle back to the other end of the couch as Harry practically crawled on top of Draco, tossing his glasses onto the coffee table nearby.

As soon as Draco's head hit the cushion, Harry claimed his mouth again, his body positioned between Draco's legs. Draco's leg on the outside of the sofa was bent at the knee, and Harry ran his hand up and down the blonde's thigh, sending heat pooling south of Draco's stomach. Draco's hands grabbed the fabric on the back of Harry's shirt, balling it into his fists. He was glad they had hung their robes up since the room had been a bit warm; he didn't want any more constraints getting in the way.

Harry rolled his hip,s and Draco gasped, nerves dancing up his spine. His instincts took over, and Draco pushed his hips up to meet Harry's as their kisses became more fervent.

"Ah!" Harry whispered, sucking in air as he pulled his head back a few inches. "Draco!"

He practically growled as he crushed their lips together again, both men rocking back and forth now, their erections strained against their trouser zippers.

Draco vaguely recognized thinking he felt like a teenager again, dry humping on a sofa, but all coherent thought was soon lost as Harry did another delicious hip roll and left them both panting. Draco caught Harry's bottom lip in his teeth, a moan stuck in his throat as the man's hand snaked up his shirt. Draco desperately wanted to take it off but could not bring himself to lose a fraction of contact.

_So close!_ His brain screamed, and he could feel the tightening in his abdomen.

"Don't stop," Draco croaked, his teeth grinding together. "Oh Merlin, Harry! Please!"

Motivated by these pleas, Harry sped up on his end, both of their breaths coming in hard gasps until finally Draco couldn't hold back any longer. He gripped Harry's shoulders hard and his back arched as a moan tore through him.

Harry came with a loud "Fuck!" moments after, and they both collapsed into each other, sweaty and out of breath.

Harry lifted up to sit back on his heels, a hand covering his face as nerves still ran raw. He felt around the table for his wand and cast a quick clean up charm on both of them before leaning back to concentrate on evening out his breathing. Draco rose up, pushing himself up with his elbows, and scooted over to Harry, his heart rate still running above normal.

He handed Harry his glasses, and as the wizard situated them on his nose, Draco leaned in with an impish expression and gave his lips a lick with a slow flick of his tongue. Harry grinned at him, sweeping his sweaty fringe away from his forehead, his scar prominent in his flushed face. Then he caught Draco's left hand in his and pressed a quick kiss to it, right below the ring, the firelight reflecting off of the diamonds.


	27. Chapter 27

**J. K. Rowling owns all of HPverse. A hard chapter to write. Thanks for reading.**

Draco was spending the late morning working at home in his private study adjoining his bedroom, his windows thrown open to the warm air. He was going over photos from the latest shoot for the ad on his new product "No Muss Mousse." It charmed the hair of the wearer so no matter how much the hair was tousled, it would stay perfectly styled the way it was for the following five hours. It launched in a week, and Draco predicted a swell of success, given the amount of preorders that had already accrued.

He finally decided on a photo of smokey-eyed Natasha smiling sexily at the camera while running a hand through her long dark auburn locks to show how they fell back into place a moment later. A baby dragon they'd given a docile charm was wrapped lazily around her neck, its nostrils smoking as she posed for the camera. He sealed it up with some notes and sent Dolly to pop it into the ad team's office.

He was just going over this week's orders when the morning post arrived, his eagle owl Titan landing gracefully on the perch on Draco's desk, puffing its chest out proudly as it waited for him to untie the packet of letters attached to his leg. Draco ran two fingers softly down Titan's feathered head and threw a treat for him, which the owl caught with ease. Once free of his burden, Titan flew out the window through which he came and left the man to read in solitude.

There was a postcard from Blaise, now in Australia on business. The handwriting was Luna's though, Draco recognized. She must have gone with him as it was signed, "With all our love." The newest editions of the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly were also included, as well as a reply from Harry that he could make it for tea at noon. It was the last letter that made Draco stiffen as he saw the seal on the back of the envelope. It was from Gregory.

He opened it cautiously, having not continued correspondence with the man for a long time. It read:

_Draco,_

_Congratulations on the engagement. Blaise has written me about it, and I've been keeping up with the papers._

_Look, I know that things have been strained between us since Vincent's funeral, but I would like to see you, if you'd allow it. As I have told you before, I have long since renounced my family's views on society._

_Please consider it, Draco. I lost one best friend; I don't want to lose another._

_Gregory_

Draco stared at the parchment for a long moment, unseeing. His mind was clouded with visions of smoke and the cluttered Room of Requirement, Draco running, tripping over discarded objects, the Fiendfyre closing in. Vincent's screams rang in Draco's head.

He grasped his head with his hands as Vincent died over and over again in his memory. Draco forced himself to take deep breaths like his therapist had taught him, his fingers splayed over his temple.

No matter how much he'd analyzed it. No matter how many times his therapist had tried to convince him, Draco could not ease the guilt that was quickly constricting his chest.

His mind swam to Gregory's trial, the day after Draco's, and though his Mother had said it was dangerous to show support to another Death Eater family, Draco had begged her to let him go.

The council had all stared down at his friend from their high seats, his magicked chains clinking as the boy trembled.

"You have to understand," Gregory had explained in his low, gruff voice. "It was Crucio or be Crucioed.  
>With my dad being who he is, if I didn't do as the Carrows asked, it would have got back to, to—him."<p>

The fact that the boy couldn't even say Voldemort's name showed his fear.

"I didn't want my dad punished."

Draco watched, helpless, as a fat tear slid down Gregory's face. The council members did not look moved.

In a show of leniency, Gregory had gotten six months in Azkaban, and when he was released, Draco had owled him at his family's small winter home, they only property the Ministry hadn't seized from his mother.

He'd written his apologies, and how he blamed himself for Vincent's death. If he hadn't asked the two to help him in the Room of Requirement, the Fiendfyre wouldn't have happened.

"It should have been me, Gregory" was the last line Draco had written.

To Draco's surprise, Gregory had sent him a ferocious reply.

"Vincent got himself killed! We've got a lot to be sorry for. Don't go adding to it!" was one of the many lines that had stuck out in his letter. "You're alive. Your charges were dropped, so stop being an ungrateful bastard!"

A month later he'd apologized for his brusque language, but Draco could not bring himself to reply. His guilt was overwhelming, and what was worse, Gregory had been right. A layer of guilt about allowing himself to feel guilty layered over top what was already festering.

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, his mind alternating between watching the horrible "O" Vincent's mouth made right before the flames overtook him and Gregory's head hung low as he was sentenced to Azkaban.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to the empty room as his hand crushed the letter. "I can't."

* * *

><p>When Harry was greeted by Dolly at the door to the Manor, she looked anxious, rubbing her hands as she bowed low to him.<p>

"Hello, Dolly," he greeted her, watching her carefully. "Erm, how are you doing this afternoon?"

"Master Potter is kind to ask," Dolly said, rewarding him with a smile, but it was short lived. "Dolly is in good health, sir. Shall Dolly show you to tea?"

Harry followed the little elf to the parlor, her hands still worrying themselves. Before she opened the door, the wizard stopped her.

"Dolly, is everything okay?" Harry asked. "You seem like something's bothering you."

Dolly pulled her hand back from the parlor door's handle, and turned to him with huge shifting eyes.

"Forgive me, sir," she squeaked, her hands moving faster now. "It's just that…"

She trailed off, looking pained.

"It's just what?" Harry prompted.

"Oh, Master Draco would not like me sayings, sir," she answered, looking down. "But sir should know that Dolly's master is not himself today."

When Harry stared at her with questioning eyes, she winced.

"He got a bit of unwanted post is all," she said, and tugged on an ear. "I not saying more, sir. I know Master would not be pleased."

Not wanting Dolly to start boxing her own ears as he'd seen elves do before, he quickly reassured her.

"That's alright, Dolly. You don't have to answer anymore. Thank you for the heads up."

The elf looked relieved and bowed low to him before opening the door. His curiosity peaked, he entered the room.

To the casual observer, Draco would appear normal, but to Harry, who'd kept a keen eye on the blonde in sixth year, the man was clearly agitated. Harry could tell by the way he sat extra stiffly in his chair and the tight little lines around his mouth when he greeted him. _Unwanted post? _thought Harry. _What could that mean? Had something happened at the spa?_

Never having been good with talks like these (Hermione was much better at it than Ron or Harry), Harry did not know how to approach the subject as the two inquired about each other as Dolly brought in the tea and biscuits. Draco made all appropriate responses when Harry spoke, but he could feel that the man was elsewhere, his grey eyes clouded like a storm in the distance.

After their conversation had reached a lull after discussing the upcoming World Cup, Harry decided to pry. Draco had barely touched his tea and ignored the biscuits all together. Right now he was staring into the contents of his cup, looking farther away.

"Are you alright, Draco?" Harry asked softly.

Draco's head snapped up.

"Of course," he answered, a smile plastering onto his face, his mouth looking tighter. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Okay, Harry thought. Clearly a method of misdirection. He was reminded of a quidditch move, the Transylvanian Tackle.

"You just seem a bit, well, distracted," Harry supplied, not sure how to approach the subject.

He watched as Draco waved a well-practiced dismissive hand.

"Merely the concern of a business man. Not to worry. I apologize for my seeming lack of attention."

But Harry could see the rigidness of Draco's posture and knew the blonde was not being completely truthful. He felt himself bristle inside; he did not like to be lied to, but concern soothed Harry's insides. Something was clearly bothering Draco, and if Harry could help, he would. He bit his lip as he steadied himself for what he was going to say next, hoping Dolly would not be scolded.

"Um, well. Dolly mentioned that… that you'd been upset by something in the post," Harry revealed, cringing inside when he saw how Draco's eyes flashed.

"Did she?" Draco asked, his voice cool, his eyes darting to where the elf had once been standing by the tea cart. She had disappeared for the moment.

"Well, I'm afraid she's always been overprotective," Draco continued as he tossed his napkin on the table. "I will have to speak to her about sharing unwarranted concerns with my guests."

Harry rushed to her defense, knowing Draco would not hurt Dolly but that he was clearly upset with the elf.

"Please, Draco. It's not her fault. She looked nervous when she let me in, and I asked," Harry swallowed as Draco's stony face stayed in place. "Was there something in the papers? Is the press hounding you?"

Draco rose from his seat.

"Please excuse me, Harry. But I am afraid we will have to cut tea short. I must be getting back to work," Draco dismissed him. "I shall hope to see you soon."

Gryffindor stubbornness filled Harry. He was angry at Draco's aloof behavior toward him when they had come so far. He rose from his chair.

"Draco, you can talk to—" he began, but Draco cut him off.

"I am not going to discuss it further," Draco said hotly, pushing away from the table, his teeth clamping down.

Harry followed him resolutely.

"Why are you pushing me out?" Harry called as Draco's steps increased. "I'll listen, you know."

"It is not your concern," Draco answered, his tone final, but Harry was not one to back down. He climbed the stairs behind the blonde.

"Come off it, Draco," Harry commanded, exasperated. "I'm genuinely worried."

The man whirled around, his robes settling over his drawn up shoulders.

"_Why _do you care?" Draco emphasized, the volume of his voice rising.

Harry took a couple of stairs so that the man wasn't so much higher above him.

"Because I care about you, you git!" Harry bellowed. "Now tell me what's wrong, dammit!"

"No!" Draco shot back.

"How can I help if you won't tell me?!" Harry retorted.

"I don't need any help!" the man yelled, and Harry was right in his face then.

"Clearly," Harry spat. "That's why you've got your knickers in such a twist."

"I do not!"

The man a step above him clenched his fists, and Harry could feel his ears burning.

"Then why are you yelling?"

"You yelled at me first," Draco defended, crossing his arms.

Harry bit back his retort. This was clearly not the best approach. Reeling himself in, Harry softened his tone and adjusted his posture to be less aggressive.

"I'm…sorry for yelling at you," Harry sighed. "I didn't want to upset you. Just, _please_. Tell me."

He waited as Draco stared hard at him, still looking put out.

"Fine," the man snapped, but his voice was calmer. He relaxed his arms, but they stayed crossed. "It was just a damn letter is all."

"From who?" Harry coaxed when Draco did not elaborate.

"Whom," Draco corrected, rolling his eyes, and Harry had to count to five in his head not to snap.

"Okay, from _whom_," Harry restated. He watched Draco's Adam's apple bob as the man swallowed.

"Gregory," he finally answered, his voice losing all bite.

Harry had to think a moment.

"Goyle?" he asked, picturing the hulking young man in Hogwarts. "Are you two still friends?"

"No," Draco answered and then seemed to think better on it. "I don't know. He wants to visit."

"And you don't want him to," Harry filled in the unspoken sentence, and Draco nodded. The brunette shifted his feet on the stairway. He had never been fond of Draco's lackey in school, but still, he'd been Draco's friend.

"Any particular reason why?" he prodded, trying to read the conflicted emotions that were reflected in Draco's eyes.

"Because…" Draco started and his voice failed him. A weight seemed to fall on him, and he sat down on the step. "Because it's hard to see him without… without Vincent."

His expression was broken.

Understanding bloomed in Harry's mind, and he took a tentative seat next to the man. Years reeled back in his mind as the memory played of Draco holding onto Harry as the broom sped through the burning Room of Requirement that fateful night, Vincent left behind in the madness.

"Draco—" he began softly, trying to slip a comforting arm around the man, but Draco shouldered the arm away instantly.

"I do not need to be coddled like a child," Draco said firmly, and Harry pulled his arm back to give the man space.

He understood. He'd always hated when others had tried to comfort him too much. It made him feel weak. And he understood Draco's feelings. It had been difficult the first few months to see George without Fred after the war.

"I should have stopped him somehow. Saved him," Draco said, his voice barely audible and his eyes far away.

Harry's stomach twisted in empathy. How many times he wished he could go back and stop everyone from dying. His parents. Cedric. Sirius. Hedwig and Mad-Eye Moody. Remus and Tonks. Fred. The list grew and grew. He'd had to work for a long time to come to terms that there was nothing he could have done to change any of it.

"You couldn't have," Harry said, gently. "We barely got out."

They sat there on the staircase, both lost in memory for what seemed like hours. Little by little, with Harry ever cautious of the man's reaction, Draco let him put his arm around his shoulders.


	28. Chapter 28

**J. K. Rowling owns all of HPverse. Sorry for so much dialogue. Thanks for all the reviews! I appreciate you reading! Only a few more chapters left!**

Trays of hor d'oeurves plates and flutes of champagne revolved around and twisted through the Malfoy Manors garden. Paper lanterns glowed as the evening grew dimmer, and a violin duet floated above the flood of guests all there to celebrate Harry and Draco's engagement.

Harry was standing off to the side of the commotion while Draco hunted them a waiter with champagne. The two had found it much easier to stand in one spot as every five minutes someone would come up to them to give well wishes. The brunette, as always, felt a bit stuffy in his dress robes, having never gotten over his partiality to muggle dress. He did look good, though, he half admitted. Hermione had helped pick out the cerulean thin fabric. Draco had even complimented him that the color really brought out his features, and Draco would know, Harry was sure, as the man looked rather dapper in his molten silver robes with black trim.

Harry watched the man's back appreciatively as he wound through the crowd, but his attention was diverted as Percy and a very pregnant Penelope stepped up to him. The three hugged, Harry being careful not to press on her swollen stomach.

"Merlin, Nel, you look fit to pop!" Harry exclaimed, and she rubbed her stomach with a grin. "How long before we get to see that beautiful girl?"

"About a month and a half," Percy answered, beaming.

"Right after your wedding," Penelope added with a quirked eyebrow. "Two celebrations back to back it would seem."

Harry laughed.

"Looks like you two better hurry up and settle on a name then."

"We have," Percy said proudly. "It's Alfreda."

"Freddie as a nickname," Penelope explained softly. "Molly nearly cried when we told her and Arthur."

Harry gave them both a warm smile.

"It's a great name. Her uncle would have been proud."

Everyone got a bit misty-eyed for a moment and hugged again to cover it up.

"Congratulations, Harry," Penelope said, holding him by the shoulders as they parted.

Percy led her away, calling out his own well wishes. Andromeda saddled up to him soon after.

"A lovely party," the woman cooed giving him a squeeze.

"Yes," Harry answered amused. "I would hope so since Mrs. Malfoy has been working day and night on it."

Andromeda chuckled, "Yes, Narcissa was always project-oriented as a girl."

They both stood and watched the people around chatting and enjoying themselves.

"So," Andromeda broke the silence. "Have you decided where you are going to have the wedding?"

Harry sighed and turned to the older witch, merriment in her wide soft eyes. He thought she looked very regal tonight, her usually loose light brown hair piled high in a bun.

"I'm afraid I don't know yet," he answered. "I read that the bride, or erm, in this case, the initiatee's family holds the engagement party on their property. The groom's family holds the wedding, and the only problem with that is that I don't have any blood family. I have Grimmauld Place, but it's not big enough. The Weasleys offered me the Burrow, but I really don't want them to go to all that trouble."

"The Weasleys love you, Harry!" she cried.

"I know, and I love them," Harry replied. "I just know Draco will be as keen on it as Molly."

Andromeda tried to cough to hide her snicker and gave Harry a sympathetic look.

"Well, then, guess there's only one other option left," she announced cryptically.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His expression questioned her.

"You'll just have to marry at Black Farm," she answered simply.

"I don't understand," Harry voiced his puzzlement. "Black Farm?"

She nodded and leaned in to speak more confidentially.

"You know that my family disowned me when I married Ted, but when my father was dying, he wrote me back into the will, though marginally, I assure you," she added when Harry looked at her in surprise. "I think he did so to provide me with my own property, in case I ever "came to my senses" and divorced Ted."

"You see, he split up the lands between the three daughters. Along with the fortune, Narcissa, his favorite, was left the Château de Noir and the attached vineyard in France. It was our summer home. Bellatrix—" and Harry could hear the disgust in the pronunciation,"—was left Henley Hall, where I grew up. The Ministry, of course, seized this property when she was imprisoned. No matter, it had fallen in irreparable decay and curses were set up everywhere."

"And you got a farm house?" Harry supplied the ending.

"Yes, in East Dorset. It's not nearly as grand as this," she continued, extending her hands to encompass the garden. "I haven't visited it in sometime, so it'll need work. But it's yours if you want it."

Harry's mouth hung open.

"Re-really?!" Harry spluttered. "That would be wonderful! Are you sure?"

The witch beamed at his reaction and the lines in her face softened.

"Your Teddy's godfather. You're family as far as I'm concerned. I'd be happy to help."

She found herself enveloped in a hug as Harry held her tight and said his many thanks.

"You're family to me, too," he whispered in her ear, emotion and gratitude overtaking him.

* * *

><p>Draco had just wrapped his fingers around two glasses when a familiar freckled face came into his view.<p>

"Good evening, Ginny," Draco drawled. "Pleasant to see you, as always."

The petite and bright eyed woman smirked at him.

"I'm stealing you away from your fiancé for a second," she told him, as people pressed against them as they walked by. Draco raised his eyebrow in classic Malfoy fashion.

"Oh? And why, pray tell, would you do that?"

She placed a hand delicately on his arm.

"I have a little business venture to propose," she whispered, and Draco looked at her in surprise as she led him over to where George was standing.

"I believe you know my associate," she purred as George stuck his hand out to Draco.

"Congratulations, blondie," the other Weasley said while winking at him.

"Thank you," Draco intoned while shaking his hand, ignoring the blonde comment. He turned to Ginny.

"Now, you were saying something about a proposal…" he trailed off.

George and Ginny exchanged impish grins. The brother rubbed his hands together.

"Too right," he began. "How'd you like to partner on the latest Weasley creation?"

Draco listened as George and Ginny took turns explaining Comb-a-Chameleon, an enchanted comb that dyed the user's hair different stripes of colors with every stroke. It was inspired by Teddy. George was a great hand at charms, but he wanted help with the dye aspect.

"We'd split the profits fifty-fifty," Ginny exclaimed. "And both our company's names would be included in the patent."

Draco let a smile pull up one corner of his mouth.

"Sounds promising, he said, and the Weasley duo looked pleased. "Owl me a formal proposal in the morning, and I'll send it to my accountant and business assistant."

George clapped him on the back, and Ginny gave him a hug. Draco bid them a good evening and returned to his long abandoned date.

* * *

><p>The brunette took the flute offered him as Draco returned just as he saw Andromeda leaving.<p>

"Took long enough," Harry teased, giving him a small peck on the cheek.

"My apologies," Draco said sincerely. "Your Weasleys detained me with business talk."

Harry asked him what the talk entailed, but before Draco could explain, a tall dark haired man with high cheekbones was greeting them.

"Pucey!" Draco called, and the two men embraced. The blonde turned to Harry and gestured to his friend.

"Harry, have you met Adrian Pucey, my good friend and business assistant?"

Adrian grasped hands enthusiastically with the famous quidditch player.

"Pleasure, pleasure," Adrian boomed. "Remember? We played each other in school."

Recognition dawned on Harry as the two men release hands.

"How could I forget a Slytherin who didn't cheat," Harry exclaimed, smiling now.

Adrian guffawed as Draco made an indignant sound.

"Hey, take care of my friend, Mr. Potter," Adrian said good-naturedly while taking a sip out of the full tumbler in his hand.

"I will do my best," Harry promised, putting an arm around Draco.

"Great party, Draco. Congrats, you two," Adrian replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to get back to my date… Oh wait, here he comes now."

All three men turned to see a stocky gentleman with cropped red hair making his way toward them.

"Charlie!" Harry gasped.

"Hello there, Harry," Charlie welcomed. "Sorry I'm late."

The brunette was beside himself. He turned to introduce the man to Draco.

"This is Ron's brother, Charlie Weasley, "Harry said, ignoring Draco's muttered, "Another one?"

"What are you doing here?"

"To wish you well on your pending nuptials, of course" Charlie replied, a hearty grin breaking across his overly freckled face. Adrian settled a hand on Charlie's back.

"We met at the ad shoot," the man explained. "He's the handler that brought the baby dragon for the set."

Harry remembered Draco pointing out his new ad poster to him in Diagon Alley the other day. Draco shook his hand, thanking him for his good work. They exchanged some stories to catch up, especially Charlie talking about Romania. Soon though Charlie and Adrian excused themselves so that they could make their rounds with the other Weasleys.

A stream of friends and acquaintances made their way all night to give congratulations. Harry's teammates broke out in shouted toasts at one point. Draco noticed Tommy was sans Terry. He also noticed two similar looking women heading toward the garden path together. He smiled inwardly as he watched his mother disappear with her sister, both having a long talk overdue.

* * *

><p>Hours later, an exhausted Harry and Draco were in Draco's wing of the house. The house elves had moved the small collection of wedding presents to his sitting room. The men had asked that guests give donations to charities in the couple's name instead of actual gifts, but some close friends had still wanted to give something. After discussing the evening, the two discarded their robes and propped their feet on the twin ottomans. The two levitated the presents one at a time and took turns opening them. Draco went first.<p>

He unwrapped the thick tissue paper to reveal a pot of soil with a card pushed into the top. He read it aloud.

"Rare hybrid striped puffapod seedlings. May your love always grow. Signed Neville," Draco finished, looking at the pot with interest. "Mother will be excited to put it in the garden."

Harry was next.

"From Blaise and Luna," Harry read and looked up. "Shame they had traffic problems with the Floo Network in Australia."

Draco nodded, and Harry pulled out a bottle of dirigible plum wine from the box.

"Luna's making," Draco laughed and took the bottle to look at further.

In the end, they had received a beautiful set of mermaid shell goblets from Ron and Hermione, a pair set of cufflinks depicting the house crests from Andromeda and Teddy, and, much to Harry and Draco's amusement, two pairs of boxers with Mr. and Mr. embroidered on the backs from George and Ginny, one Slytherin green and the other Gryffindor scarlet.

Looking at the clock on the wall and seeing the already late hour growing later, Harry sighed and moved to stand, facing Draco

"I should probably Floo home," he said softly as Draco stood up, as well. "I've got practice in the morning."

"Yes, I suppose you should," Draco replied, and both men stood there staring into each other's faces, not wanting to say goodnight.

Harry watched as Draco bit his lip, and he blinked hard as he realized those lips were coming closer. Their mouths met gently as their hands reached for each other. Draco tilted his head more to allow Harry better access, and the brunette soon felt a tongue prodding gently at his lips, asking for entrance. Draco ran his hands up Harry's shoulders, and Harry felt a hunger drop into the pit of his stomach. He kissed the blonde harder. After a moment Draco pulled back and breathed, "Bedroom?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, nodding his head, and they kissed again before Draco led him by the hand across the hall to his room.

Harry had only a moment to take in the silver draping around the bed and the jade chess set on the table before Draco's mouth was on his again. This time he kissed with much more ferocity, walking Harry backwards until the brunette's legs hit the bedside.

"Ho ho," Harry murmured against Draco's lips and pulled him to tumble down with him.

Their hands became as busy as their mouths as buttons became undone and shirts slid up. Harry pulled back to look at the man pinned by him and took in the white expanse of chest that had thick scars running across it.

A memory of a spell passing through Harry's lips in a bathroom during sixth year came to haunt him, and he stared into Draco's eyes before dropping his head to kiss every last inch of the scars, trying to press his apologies as deep into the man's skin as possible.

Finally Draco pulled his head up and pushed the dark fringe back.

"It's alright," Draco whispered, and he pressed himself to Harry's bared chest as they returned to kissing.


End file.
